


Choices

by Loveforthestory



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Charlie and her men, F/M, Family, Love, Loyalty, Sexual Content, Tension, charloe - Freeform, fighting with and for the other, season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveforthestory/pseuds/Loveforthestory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right after Austin, right after Miles is missing, it is Bass that pulls Charlie through as the story takes a different turn.<br/>Dedicated to all of you out there who fell in love  with these two characters and the story of Revolution as much as I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**When I wrote Things Change, my version of season two with Charloe intertwined in there, I had many sketches in my notebook ( so many I am using my second notebook now). There are a couple of ideas that I did not put into the story, since I had to make decisions of where to go and where not to. I wanted to share those ideas with you in these shorter stories because I already have them in my notebook and on my computer. You can expect a story around New Vegas where things take a very different turn on events and other intense things happen there. One story where I write more of Monroe's gem of a conversation with Charlie, yeah, the one with "you choose a...'. And one with Neville, Jason and Bass, where Bass will be in time to make sure Charlie does not have to do what she had to do in the series.**

**These are new scenes and stories that my Charloe notebook came up with, but I wanted to write them all completely, and publish them. They will all be about Charlie, and Bass. About their story and scenes in the story.**

**This one takes place right behind Austin.**

**Miles has been missing for two days.**

Choices, Chapter one

She missed his arms. Miles arms. One a long grey day she could use his calming eyes, that fast  _all part of the charm_ wink. The scent of his neck, his scruff with a touch of grey, the scent of the sweat and whiskey that was so Miles. He had send her back to her mom with the Monoe's and left with the wagon to create a distraction for the rangers that had been on their tail after they had left Austin. She had fought the decision, but Miles had more of Matheson stubbornness inside of him at that moment near the wagon.

After Jason. After Jason would never walk into their camp, or look at her with those dark eyes. She would never see the boy again, she once fell so hard for near that riverbank. After she had to that one thing that would fill her with self hate.

That was two days ago.

Miles was missing. They had looked for him. Monroe, her mom. Not Connor, who had decided to be a twelve year old and stay and pout at camp. Realising more how bad a mistake she had made in Vegas with him. Even after all the crap she had to go through to get his sorry skinny Monroe ass out, with the other Monroe, he could not even get of his stupid log of wood near his fire to be man enough and get over himself and return the favor for her.

She had to get away from the tent, away from her mom and grandpa. She had wanted to recharge before heading out again, to find Miles, again. But her mom. Her mom. They had many fights. But this one, this one might be the end of any hope of mending things between them.

Charlie hit the ground as a bullet of betrayal and disbelieve brought her down. She cried, deep raw sobs, as she felt the weight of her tears run over her cheeks and inside of her. As she did not care anymore who was there to see. She managed to take a couple of more steps, away from that tent behind her. Away from her mom. Away from what she just told her.

Somehow in between the crying her knees gave out and somewhere in that moment Aaron was there. She was leaning half against him, as her body now turned to the dirt of the camp that was getting dark. The camp that felt even more desolate and dark without Miles here.

Aaron had watched Charlie and he knew this girl. Something was wrong. He had rushed over and was just in time to catch her. He felt his will to believe in anything good break when he felt the girl he had known with pig tails in his arms. Finally there in that dark place he feared more than anything for her. And he watched her, again and again. He had seen her again, only two days ago. She had been pissed, of course she was. He had sneaked of in the middle of the night. But he had to. Leaving her behnd asleep. But now he was here, she was here. She had been pissed, but with love for him in her eyes. It was so good to see her. So good, until he had heard that Miles was not there. Until other things of things that had happened in a city not far from their camp lay in her eyes.

A movie before his eyes as Charlie's tears had fallen from her eyes and had connected with Ben, one last time there on the ground of Sylvania Estates. As he had watched her cry with a Wizard of Oz book in his hand, as Maggie left her for good. As he had held Charlie, until he couldn't anymore when she ran to Danny. As he watched her when she told her they had lost Norah.

Aaron held her again, his arms now around her as she was leaning against his beard. His arms and all his will inadequate to sufficiently deal with so much pain in her shocking shoulders, her shaking, her cold arms and her heartbreaking sobs.

His glasses got damp with her and his own tears. He threw them on the ground next to him.

'I want them back Aaron.' He heard the desolation and panic in her voice _. Ben, Danny._

'I need them to come back,' Charlie was not able to look before her anymore, her look now inside of her, as she felt the absolute sheer panic rising. She needed to see Danny's warm smile. She needed her father's arms around her. His scent of whiskey, but another kind of whiskey than Miles, around him as he would rub the back of her head, her hair under his touch.

She had been without them for so long now, and now, after Miles went missing, after Austin, after it all, after this long road, she felt so alone and they needed to come back.

The wind picked up, as the camp around her did not exist now.

Coldness met her.

Her mother who only minutes ago had maybe burned the last connection between them, the last hope for hope and trust, as the bond, that held them together as mother and daughter was already wearing thin, a small tie barely there to connect them.

Her grandpa, who's face told her he probably knew too.

Monroe. He was there in the line of people she had silently came to think of as somebody in her pack, in her group. But somehow he had forgotten her, he barely tolerated her these days, as he did fought with her but eyes were not there for her to connect with. Now they had not been there anymore, she realised how they were there before.

Connor. A fling, an easy way out of feelings she did know how to place. Feelings for a man so out of reach, she did not allow her heart to feel them. They should not be there. So Connor happened. A friendly distraction from all the hell and dirt around them. Maybe a friend. That was until Miles had gone missing. And all he had given her back was a snarky remark towards Monroe about how how he got it, how Monroe had to go and find his boyfriend. Charlie had been walking past them, but she had still heard the words. Monroe had caught up with her, silent, strong and broody, as she had not missed the impact of his kid's words in his eyes.

Connor had caught up with her yesterday, asking her if she was going out and that nightfall would be there in an hour, tears in his darker eyes as she told him about Neville. But when she had walked out, he had not followed her. And she knew it would be the last time she would share anything like that with him.

And Miles.  _Miles._

The sobs continued as Charlie felt like all things good, all people that loved her, had left her. Again.

Her hands started to shaky, folded next to her, as she looked at her fingers, and felt her fingers tremble. The tremble spread to her whole body.

They had to take her from here now. Because she did not know how to get up again.

* * *

Bass had watched some fucking shit in his life, but a Charlie that crashed down was spectacular.

It had been midmorning when they had split up, it was almost dark when they had come back. Charlie had been silent. He had found his kid staring and pouting into the fire with wild dark anger in his eyes, aimed at him, as Charlie and Rachel walked over to doc. His thoughts had been with Miles and only with Miles. But the sting of his son's words. Go find your boyfriend,  _dammit,_  they hurt like hell.

He had gotten more god damn loyatly from Charlie from the start, as his respect for her only grew more with every fucking embaressing thing his kid did along the way. And now it was nightfall. His brothers still out there. Worry flooding through his mind. he had shoved his pack near the fire, as his black leather jacket was zipped up, not even keeping the fucking cold out. He did not give a fuck. Miles. He gave a fuck about him.

Not much later there was a devastated Charlie leaving their tent a little uphill, Rachel behind her, standing still after large steps of her boots in the ground as he watched how she did not know what to do with her arms. Muttering something that came damn close to  _sorry,_  over and over again.

Bass stood there, his mouth open, his blue eyes wide in shock as Charlotte had looked wildly, so sad, so incredibly lost and unlike her, he could only stand there, next to Connor. Staypuft moved his ass over to her. And then, she fucking hit the ground and he watched how he crouched down next to her, catching Charlie.

The sobs came. Charlie cried. Honest sobs, her heart open there on the ground and into the dirt. The camp turned their attention to them. It is where the first hit him, of wanting to shield her from every fucking pair of eyes aimed at her.

Charlie was huddled on the ground in the middle a triangle of fires, on a clearing before the old building they had sat up camp around. And as Staypuft heald her, he could hear her mutter something. Bass felt the tension in his jaws give him away, and he felt harsh breathing and his fists clenched, crushing his want to walk over right the fuck now.

When she started to cry with lower sobs he watched her shoulders. His eyes following the lines of her shoulders and arms. Her fingers were starting to tremble with her breathing. He watched her watch them.

He couldn't take it anymore as he walked over. His defence splitting open, remembering that he  _did_  give a fuck. Something he had to make himself forget after he had to sit his ass down at that bar in New Vegas, drinking his burning drink, seeing his fucking son all over her after he walked in on them around that damn fire, Charlie's skin warmed by the fire, her body touching Connor's.

His eyes went to Rachel one more time, right before he reached Charlie. Trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. And then he looked at Charlie as he knelt down, and only her. His hand worked fast. He shrugged himself out of his leather jacket and placed it around her. His fingers brushed her skin. He registered she was getting too damn cold. He shared a look with Staypuft who looked unsure at him.

And then both men locked eyes, realising how much they had in common right now. Bass remembered Aaron standing behind Charlie on the midnight of his execution. This guy was there for Charlie, always. He respected him for that.

Slowly Aaron let Charlie go as he understood what Monroe was here for.

Bass moved an arm under her knees. He was going to get her fucking of the ground. Her head, again, against his chest. Her cheeks wet, her eyes hollow.

His jaws locked for so much of her pain.

He moved her towards the place around the fire on his left where he had left his pack. Staypuft grabbed his bedroll and moved it close to the fire. Bass felt the heavy weight of Charlie's hurt and the weight of her body in his arms. Somehow wanting to hold her there. But he fucking couldn't. He placed her down and covered her with his blanket.

He nodded towards Connor. 'Stay with her.' He barked.

And then, he looked at Rachel who was still standing in front of her tent. And his boots hit the ground with heavy weights. He was going to find out what happened.

Rachel might have kept her mouth shut for nine years in Philly, but god help her if she did not start to talk right fucking now.

* * *

**Authors Note**  I wanted to write this one, because I wanted to write a Bass that was there for her right after Austin. And it was so hard to see how Connor did go to talk to Charlie in that episode, but never ever helped them with finding Miles, not even when Charlie put her life on the line to get him and Bass out in New Vegas. I wanted to change that here, give Bass more space and time to be there for Charlie. I also added more to the story, as that moment where Miles went missing put a lot of pressure on them all.

Things will heat up in next chapter as truths come out and things go on this story. More from Charlie, more from Bass there, who are the focus points in this story.

Love from Love


	2. Chapter 2

He nodded towards Connor. 'Stay with her.' Nodding his head towards Charlie who was caught between Staypuft and his kid near the fire, Staypuft making sure she was warm. Silently working to arrange the blanket, as Connor looked from his dad to Charlie and Aaron. He gave the older Monroe a nod back.

Bass heart got another dig when he watched Connor look at Charlie with softer eyes than he had gotten all fucking day from his kid. But right now, he needed someone to stay the hell with her. He shoved it away, next to all the other shit Charlie was able to get out of him, and rearranged the gun under his jacket, near his lower back.

And then, Bass looked at Rachel. And his boots hit the ground with heavy weights. He was going to find out what happened. Why the hell Charlie had gotten out of that tent, crashing down. Rachel might have kept her mouth shut for nine years in Philly, but god help her if she did not started to talk right fucking now.

Rachel was standing in the smaller tent, as her cold eyes met his. She had a wash of guilt and hurt, or whatever the fuck it was in her eyes. He did not really give a fuck.

They used to be friends. He would visit her family with Miles. He would meet them in Chicago, her and Ben when they were so much younger. When their house was an inviting table with food and catching up with beer and Ben.

They had a friendship, but it was a friendship build around Ben and Miles. That friendship had already changed when he knew about her affair with Miles. That friendship had been lost for good after nine years of Philly. After she showed up. Showed up, after they, he  _and Miles_ , it seemed like he was the only one remembering that one detail, had asked for Ben.

The minute Jeremy had walked his ass into his office when he was in a meeting, to tell him Rachel Matheson had showed up at the stables north of the city, he had know she was here for him. For Miles. He had known about their dirty little secret. He fucking had. He had also known that she had a part in ripping the world apart as it was. Her and Ben.

And then, after the many mistakes he knew he had made, she had done the one thing that ripped everything apart. The last piece of friendship somewhere out there. He was drunk. So was she. Or maybe, no strike that,  _not_  as drunk as she had wanted him to believe. Miles was gone. Smashing another piece in his soul. Not that there was much left anymore. He had fucked her. She had been more than willing. And then, the bitch had truly believed that one drunken fuck, would made him change his mind about releasing her, about letting her go. She really had thought she was able to play him like that.

She had used Miles, she had played him, she had given a piece of herself away in a game of a drunk late night with too much whiskey and too much regret. Rachel had used him, her, that night, that moment. To get what she wanted, needed. He knew he was not a saint, but he knew her. He knew what she was capable of.

He had been filled with dark anger at her and himself after the sun had come up that night, but most of all for himself. For letting himself get lost in a night where Rachel had not hesitated to use all of it, to get what she wanted. After that, things between them had been harsh, edged, filled with lashing out and a desire only to forget and wipe out all memories of the existence of the other. He had barely seen her, only visiting her to add more pressure to get the power back on. After that night, he had not hesitated to use her kids against her.

They were not friends anymore. He realised how fucking much they were not friends anymore when she straightened her shoulders here in this tent, when Miles was missing, had left him again, and her eyes had filled with blue loathing.

'Get out, Bass.' Rachel said coldly.

Bass huffed at hearing his name. Sure _, now it was Bass again_. Now she could use it as a weapon, to use his nickname to put him back in his place.

'The hell I am, Rachel.' His eyes were darker, the light falling in them differently, as his curls were sticky with sweat against his forehead and neck. 'What the hell is going on?'

'What is going on is none of your business,' Rachel spat out the words.

'None of my business huh?' Bass stepped closer, his voice now filled with more rage, and disbelieve , the colour of his words harsh, throwing his arms in the air.

Rachel met him with cold eyes. This was not Philly anymore, both of them had a free range, both of them were equally free now to let it all explode, right here.

Bass stepped closer, only stopping right in front of her.

'None of this is your business, Bass. This is  _my_  family.' She laced her words with contained hate, meeting his eyes.

 _My family. Not yours. You have non left. Except for the son that is as dark and gone to hell as you._ It was what Rachel was not saying, and what they were both hearing.

Eyes were challenging him, daring him to let this all go to hell.

Seconds passed.

'Okay, you want to do this now?' Bass could not hold back anymore. Charlie was out there with Staypuft and his kid, barely keeping her shit together. Miles was missing. He had come over to see what the hell was going on but she wanted to go for another round, drag all the old bullshit in this too. Make this all about her. Fine. The bitch could have it.

'Fine,' Bass breathed out harshly,  _'_  You are a hypocritical bitch and you are grinding him into the dirt. With all your whining, your nagging about doing the right thing I hear all fucking day, The right thing? You? Where the hell do you get off with that? Because, lady, I know you. You're a screw driver wielding psychopath.'

Rachel eyes filled with fury. Knowing where Bass was aiming at. That one night. She pushed it all back, falling back to her old pattern of hate, of love for one General, of loathing and nothing else for the other.

'Oh, so you know me? You know Miles, everybody?' Rachel moved closer into his personal space, her voice the sound of a lioness waiting to make her over

'That's right,' his voice was laced with dangerous contained rage.

'Because I know you, Bass, you insecure child. You are taking down Miles and my daughter into the mud with you, because you can't bear the be alone. You are that pathetic.' Rachel spat the words at him.

Bass felt old hurt ambush him, his eyes now a more watery deep grey blue as Rachel used the days after he lost his whole family, his mom, his dad, his sisters, after she used that here, those endless lonely days, as he looked at her, the night in Philly raging through him, as he realised how much of a bitch she was being.

'Then tell me Rachel, if I am that pathetic and you are that good, than why did I just pull your kid of the ground, making sure she was all right?'

He watched her whole face constrict in rage, he knew he had gotten to her.

he felt her hand crashing onto his cheeck, as she lashed out and slapped him in the face.

Bass whole face turned into rage, as his hands just wanted to wrap themselves around her neck and fucking kill her.

Remembering Charlie, Miles, his kid, all of them out there made him change his mind _._

_The bitch would not win this round.Not like Philly_

He breathed harshly, letting the rage go. For now. He pushed his tongue against his teeth as he took a step back. And then another one. Looking at Rachel, Rachel looking at him.

He walked out of the tent. Not knowing what the hell had happened between Charlie and Rachel. He would find out. Right now he needed not to look at her face. Not be in the same god damn space as her.

Bass turned. Left the tent behind. Left Rachel behind and all her god damn whining and bitching.

_Charlie. Miles. His mind now on the both of them._

* * *

Charlie felt his chest. Even now he had walked away, leaving her with Aaron and Connor she could feel Bass' chest. Or rather sense him, his scent of harsh sweat, his skin, on her. It was dark now, as pale stars were above her. As Miles was still not here. As the camp was buzzing around her, men, woman, cleaning weapons, the fire, eating. Sounds she knew so well. Meaningless filling of the sky.

The fight with her mom colliding in her mind with everything else that had happened. That one tent, in this camp that would forever stay with her. The whole conversation at the end of this day, that were in reality two days but felt as one long day, when Miles had not returned to camp going through her mind. Seeing him ride away, when she was huddled up in the bushe next to Monroe and Connor at the side of the beaten road, seeing Miles ride away on that wagon over and over again.

The fight with angry words with her mom from just now going through her mind. Her mother's face. Her own voice, the tent. Camp sounds around them fading.

Thoughts going through her mind.

And then her thoughts stopped and crashed. At that one point that had changed everything for good. And she heard her mother's voice again.  _Miles._ It was the moment he had stopped being her uncle.

And had become her father.

She felt how Bass was back, his boots behind her. And then next to her. Not even wondering when she had gotten into tune with the rhythm of his step.

Charlie fell asleep, as heavy sleep pulled at her body.

She felt the blanket. She felt Connor on her right. Aaron sitting a little further ahead. The lingering presence of her mom and the truth so close but now far away at the same time. Because most of all, somehow she felt him most.

Monroe.

She was curled up under a blanket, between Connor and him. The sounds of their fire close.

Him.  _Bass._  Somehow in these moments he became Bass. His large boot was next to her, so was his left leg as a solid place in this desolate night. He was sitting next to her and had not moved anymore. He felt tall, and broad next to her. She was asleep next to the man that was her sworn enemy, when everything was still black and white. Nothing was black and white anymore.

And there, when she felt the curve of his body, when her forehead touched a piece of his leg, knowing he would sit with her, knowing he was there, she fell asleep, close to the fire and next to Sebastian Monroe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note So, I never ever wrote a story where Miles is Charlie's father. It was an option in my notebook, and I wanted to explore that here. But it is also a part of this story. The story is also about the moment where Charlie lets Bass, or Monroe, he is still someone between Bass and Monroe to her here in this chapter, closer. It is the moment where Bass realises he wants to still stand up for her. That is what this story is about.
> 
> I have been travelling, so this update took a bit longer as usual. But I am back and I plan on updating in a couple of days for this story. I will finish this one and then return to answers, which is my story of giving answers to many questions I still have, my way of finding them. Also, I plan on writing a passionate chapter for trouble in between. Well, those are the plans.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please know that your feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading! Love from Love


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was rising slowly as the dark colours of the night sky gave way to deep blue of the morning. Charlie sat near the fire where she had slept in front of. Hours of bottomless deep sleep Until thoughts of Miles and sunrise had woke her up, and urged her out of those bottomless hours of sleep. Aaron had been as a companion with her through the night. Connor around.

But most of all, the shield of Monroe's body towering over her, as she had slept curled up on a bedroll and he sat right next to her, higher on a log.

Aaron was sitting on her right. Connor was crouched down next to her as Monroe still sat on her left. They gave her water. She refused. But then she remembered Miles.

She remembered the sunrise. The sunrise that was almost there.

'Charlie, you need to drink.' Bass said, his voice rough with worry for her, for Miles, for whatever the fuck life was throwing at all of them the hell again.

He had sat next to her. Watched her sleep. That deep feeling he could not outrun of wanting to sit with her through the night as his eyes had watched the fire, had watched her, his thoughts making new plans to get through the grid of the landscape around them to get to his brother.

Bass watched the change in Charlie's shoulders. She was coming back to them. He could see something burn there, a small fire, barely visible to others, but he saw it burn. He saw her. And he wondered how the hell he had gotten to know her so damn well.

She let Bass give her his canteen again. She ate. And now she felt raw. And exposed. And she knew, here at this morning, the truth had to come out. Not because she was ready, not because it was not impossible, but because she had shit to do. Find Miles. Miles. Her father. Uncle. Her rock. Her steady course, deep eyes that became home.

Her voice was raw. Her mouth started to form the words. Connor's hand was on her knee. A friendly non pushy hand. She stared into the fire. When she spoke, it was for Monroe. For Bass.

She needed him to know. She needed him to know the truth.

When she spoke it was for him and Aaron.

'Miles,' a long pause for a truth came out she could never take back, 'He is my father.'

She watched Connor's face drop as the mask of being cocky and the dark twist in his thoughts dropped for a second. She watched Aaron suck in a breath.

And she heard Monroe swallow. She felt how he tensed up beside her. When she finally looked up, her eyes hit by the start tears she pushed back and hollowness it was at Monroe. She watched the shock in them, telling her he did not know. That he had probably his ideas about this one thing, but that it was a shock for him too, to finally hear it. Then she met Aaron's eyes with sympathy. There were no words, as they sat with her, giving her strength and comfort as everybody knew this truth was a possibility.

Charlie swallowed, pushed back the tears. Felt the warrior and fighter in her come back. Her mind forming one goal now the sun was a yellow strip on the horizon.

She could not sit here anymore. She could not wait and hear what they had to say, the three men around her. She got up to get her things. She wanted to go. She had to go. She needed to find him. Bass got up next to her, his body close to hers as he almost brushed her arm with his hand, before he seemed to change his mind.

She tilted her head towards his face, as he watched the light of the sun rising in her eyes. His voice gentle, raw and filled with a hint of contained promise for her. His jaws locked, his lips pursed together, as he looked away, only to find her eyes again.

'We will find him, Charlie.' Bass told her. 'We will.'

And it was in the way he called her Charlie again, not Charlotte, that broke through.

* * *

The sun was now higher in the sky. The landscape filled with a lighter tone of grey as clouds were one wide blanket in the sky. Trees, a stream, paths meandering through the landscape as Bass was leading in front of Rachel and Charlie. His kid, who had decided to step up and come with them to look for Miles and leave his damn log near the fire, had gone north with Aaron, who had decided to leave his creepy as fuck girlfriend behind. Bass did not know what the deal was with her, but he could not give a fuck.

His pack around his shoulder, his weapon in hand. His mind on Miles. Going through all the possibilities again, where he could be. Training, experience and love for his brother guiding him. Charlie behind him, Rachel behind her. He had watched Rachel, walking towards them with water and her own pack. Charlie had not wanted to talk to her. Had not even acknowledged her for this day. And he had just shot her a  _are you freaking kidding me_  look, filled with cold hate and rage for what she kept from his brother. From Charlie. But to hell with her. He had two priorities now, finding his brother and look out for Charlie.

'Okay, genius, tell me, where did he go?' Bass sneered, but not too unfriendly at Charlie. It was an easy banter, one she met with a tight face. They had reached a crossroad where their path lead into a small highway.

'You tell me,' Charlie bit back, ' You know I can't track over pavement.' She gestured to the road in front of them. Monroe was being a son of a bitch, but she understood him. She was tired, worried. Scared for Miles. So was he. This, this going of biting and bantering, was what they did, on the road. It was them and strangely comforting.

'So you are good, but not that good,' Bass threw back in her face, somehow finding himself in a place of feeling more connected with her than he had in a very damn long time and feeling the old conflict rise again, the one he felt since he had walked in on her with his son near that fire in Vegas.

'Let's split up, meet back here in an hour.' He gestured to the line of trees in front of him.

Rachel just kept her mouth shut, as he watched Charlie turn without a word in the opposite direction.

* * *

Bass had his eyes narrowed, scanning his surroundings. He knew Miles and he wasn't at all the damn places his brother should have been. It was day three. Day three meant that time was ticking. After splitting up, watching Charlie take one path, Rachel the other he had covered a lot of ground. He felt his heart race in steady flows of panic. Panic of losing him, Miles. His brother. And then, going back to years of experience, back to the Marine inside of him. He could not lose him, as his mind was constricted with darker panic. He took a harsh deep breath in. Kept on walking, going downhill under the cover of trees, a stream ahead.

His mind went over the past few days. Back to his brother riding away with his stupid ass plan to lead the rangers on a goose chase. Back to Austin. Back to Charlie. Back to standing on a damn street corner in Austin and feeling a horrified shock for her, knowing what she had to do. Knowing what he had wanted to spare her of going through. If anyone was going to pull the trigger on a Neville, it was going to be him. Not her.

Fuck.

Not her.

She had been through enough, he had put her through enough. He could take a lot of shit, but her, Charlie in trouble, Charlie hurt, he could not fucking take it. Not in that bar with those assholes, not in that empty swimming pool with that asshole bounty hunter with his hand on Charlie.

This was taking to fucking long. He felt restless. Charlie. He felt his heartbeat pick up. The thought of her, of what he told her and Miles when he sat in front of them on that wagon ride back to their camp from Austin, coming back.  _Neville is going to kill you Charlie._

He stopped. Standing near the creek, under the trees. Neville.

'Dammit,' He cursed at himself. Her being out there. Neville. Out there.

He turned around and started to walk uphill again. His steps fast, his boots hitting the ground.

* * *

Charlie felt him before she heard him. She just took a sip of water, put her bag back over her shoulder as she was following a stream, her boots in the sand of the bank near the river.

'You are going to turn around and not try anything stupid,' his voice is dark, the colour of his tone bringing back so many times she had met this man, 'slowly.' She heard the breathing coming through his words, the contained rage and danger and never knowing what he would do next.

When she turned around she looked into the face of Tom Neville.

She knew they would end up here. Bass was right, there on that wagon. Neville would come for her. And now he was here. Neville had his gun aimed at her, effortlessly and dangerously in one hand.

'Where is Monroe? Miles?' Tom spat out, 'Where is Jason?'

Only his name almost brought her through her knees. As memories of that empty library and the final shot, the sound of her pulling the trigger rushed back to her. Jason's face rushing back, the face filled with life and sweetness in his eyes when he had looked at her. His hand on her knee in the helicopter, his eyes looking for her, reassuring her. His hands on his crossbow near that river, strong, young, relaxed. Jason.

'They are at our camp,' Charlie nodded to a place over Neville's shoulder.

Neville's kept his gun firmly trained on her with one hand.

'Well then, Miss Matheson,' Tom said coldly, 'You better start moving that ass made of candy of yours.'

Tom Neville was here. To kill her.

And she knew, there in that moment, she knew for sure she would not lead them both back to their camp. This was her faith, her faith that she had created the moment she had shot Jason.

* * *

Charlie had led Neville to one of their previous safe houses. He had made her leave all her crap and her weapons behind but she knew Miles and Monroe always kept an extra weapon in handy places. This one particular place is a knife taped under a table.

Her mind was able to think fast, connect the dots that might get her out of here. Charlie knew she would not get out of here, but the thought of Miles and the sense of the fighter inside of her made her fight and try anyway. Not that she thought she deserved it. She didn't. But somehow, instincts kicked in, self-hate overruled by wanting to stay alive.

And as she walked in, her mind told her one thing.

You  _are_ going to die here. You are. And you should. After what you did. You should.

'Where are they?' Neville asked darkly. She knew he will figure it out, fast.

'I guess, out. Scouting.' Her voice did not even sound as her own right now.

Inside, her eyes fell on the table. And it is with one fast movement she got away from Neville and jerked the knife from under the table. It was in one fast movement that Neville was with her. She got the knife, but Neville was faster. Crashing her through the room, hurt reaching her ribs and the side of her left leg. But pain did not matter anymore.

'Get up,' he barked at her.

Charlie pushed herself up against the wall of the empty living room behind her.

'Now you are going to tell me exactly where Miles is, and Monroe is. And I will work through them as long as I have to. I don't care. Monroe, Miles, your mom. Work through all of them, until I know where my son is.'

Charlie's heart crumbled at hearing Monroe's name first. The idea of Neville going after him, of going after her mom, Aaron, all the others, because of what she did, left her breathless all of a sudden. _No._

They ended up, facing the other, as Neville towered in front of her.

Neville lost his patience. He raised his gun as Charlie moved to the ground as fast as she could as Neville shot bullet after angry bullet into the wall behind her. Charlie covered her head as first tears started to come.

'What,' his eyes had reached the level of danger that told Charlie this was going wrong, very fast. His eyes told her she was going to break. Tell him the truth. Tell him, knowing that when she did, things would be over, 'happened to my kid?'

Charlie felt herself break inside.

'He is dead.' More tears started to flow.

Tom Neville almost took a step back.

'It was Miles, right?' His voice was dark, but without the true realisation of what Charlie just told him. But his eyes, she watched them catching up.  _It won't be long._

Her eyes betrayed her in less than a second.

Neville's face dropped. He knew. Charlie knew he knew.

'No'. He just said, disbelieve and raw hurt in his face and voice and eyes.

Charlie felt her eyes well up with tears.

'Believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do. But they turned him, and I had no choice.' She watched Neville in front of her.  _You are going to die. You are._ ' I will hate myself for this forever.'

Her voice was covered in tears, her face pale, her heart filled with grey. She felt so alone, so left alone, so desolated. But this was it. It ends here. She watched the expression on Tom's face change. She watched all the emotions as he moved the gun towards her head. The cold weight of his gun against her temple. Brushing her hair and skin. It was heavy. Cold.

And right there, at the turning point,  _no turning back_ , Charlie felt each and every cell in her body scream that she did not wanted to die.

In slow motion Neville pulled the trigger. She heard it. She felt the pressure. Life flashes through her mind. Love. Memories. Ben. Danny. Miles. Her mom. Aaron. Bass. When she was younger, when Ben, Miles and Bass were the men in her life that made her giggle and make her feel safe. Danny's smile, Miles' warm eyes. They all collide.

And then.

Nothing.

The room was there. She was there. As Neville's face crumbled and her eyes were so filled with tears she could not see anymore. Neville took a step back. Another one.

And then there was a shot. But she did not feel the impact.

Instead she watched Neville slumping down on the floor, blood streaming down his face.

And then, she was not alone anymore.

Because Bass is here.

Charlie felt her whole body trembling, as she was still in the moment where she thought it would be her last. She was looking at Bass but could not look at him. She sensed he was here, but she could not see him. She felt her knees give in, as she almost fell. Within moments that seemed to stretch out into eternity, as she was falling to the ground, he was there. Bass caught her the moment Charlie was sure her legs were going to give out completely. His eyes are filled with tears and anger and worry of his own, as it all seemed to fit with the raging storm of everything she felt right now. Her breathing was out of control, as she felt she did not know what to feel first, what to be. How to be. As it was fear and adrenaline and relieve and more scars to her soul.

She just let Bass press her against his chest.

* * *

He somehow held her and got her out of the safe house. Leaving Tom Neville and all he stood for her behind. She felt his chest. She felt nothing. She kept on hearing the gunshot from Neville. She felt the relieve again from knowing Bass is here. She started to feel everything as she felt numb.

And then, she felt the deep nausea as she had to push back Bass away from her. Bending her upper body over her legs.

She had no choice but to throw up, emptying her stomach as she kept on trembling. She could not stop. Her body rejecting every thought of what just happened, rejecting every moment she had to endure with Jason. She was filled by fear, she was filled with feeling alive, by self hate for what she has done. And she heard it, over and over again, every and each time her stomach turned. The click of his gun.  ___You are here. Alive._

It felt like the throwing up would never stop. Her sides started to hurt, her throat on fire. But she did not stop. She could not stop. She did not wanted to stop. She felt an island, of misery and not being able to feel her legs.

Until his voice reached her there, his warm breath against his neck.

Bass'voice.

'Hey, it's okay. Let it out.' His voice was raspy and strangely low and soothing. Standing behind her and a bit next to her. His large hands against her sides, just under her ribs, his fingers curling up around her side to steady her. 'You are okay Charlie. I've got you. It's over.'

She let herself being comforted. She never realised that he was good at a lot of things. Good at killing. Good at being a crude ass.

But he was also good at comforting her, at giving her what she needed, right here and now.

The turning of her stomach stopped, the trembling not. He guided her down to a place under the trees. He crouched down in front of her.

And then, Charlie moved her forehead, and let it rest against his wide strong chest, his scent of leather jacket and whiskey warm and flowing inside of her. Hearing his heartbeat beating strong in his chest, together with hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have seen, there are many moments from the show and the episodes in this story, but then a bit differently. I really wanted to let Bass be there with her, in that safe house, when Neville got to her and almost hurt her so very much. In next chapter, you will learn more from his point of view throughout that scene. Currently also working on my story for Charloe and the the comics ( oh so emotional to write but working on a twist) and having some fun with the second chapter for trouble.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I love reading all your reviews, and seeing follows or kuddo's. I am so happy to know you are all here. If you have time, feedback or a review is always welcome! Love from Love


	4. Chapter 4

Bass found the prints of her boots, left behind in the sand of the river bank. They were heavy, and hers.

It did not take long for him to see an abandoned backpack and her gun next to it near the water.  _Shit._  He instinctively went for his gun but the landscape was silent. Too silent.

It did not take long for him to find an extra pair of prints in the sand, right behind hers. Hers were carved out deep in the sand. Like someone had left them there on purpose. It was the one thing that reached him through dark anger. She had thought about this, and that meant she was still into some kind of fighting mode. Not the giving up and checking out Charlie he had seen in Austin. Because she would need it. All of it.

Neville.

He was with her.

His whole heart jumped out of his chest, and landed back in his throat as his eyes were following their tracks. Neville. With her, doing god knows what to her. Possibilities racing through his mind, as he realised she should have been here with him, finding Miles. Not being out there with that son of a bitch.

He knew where Charlie had taken Neville. And it added more to his respect for her. Respect he might not ever get to talk to her about, because maybe she was not...he refused to finish that thought. He couldn't as cold images crashed into his mind.

This girl, god, he swore he was better than all of them together. Because she had lead them south west,  _away_  from their camp. he started to walk, follow her through the terrain. He felt a nauseating mix of pride and anger and being pissed off and needing to have her where he could see her right fucking now. He walked, fast. Following the leads she left there in the ground. And then, only leaving the safe house in view. He heard shots, making his breath go out of control and his head jerk up to the sounds of them. One, two, three, four...he felt the cold grasp in his chest _... no...god..._ another shot. Rage started to take actual form through his body.

He started running, hands now one with his weapon. Two hands to steady himself around the base of the gun. Not sure if he could take what he was sure he would find. A door. A hallway...

'..had no choice...and I will hate myself for this forever...' Charlie's voice set him on fire. She was alive. She was still alive. Another grasp of rage and concentrated aim to kill filled him as he heard the despair and hate for herself in her voice.

When he went around the doorway he watched Neville's back, too caught up into his madness to hear him. his weapon, so god damn large in the guy's hands was too close to Charlie. What happened next rocked him through his core. One of his men, another one of  _his_  men, had his gun trimmed at Charlie. But this time, locked at her temple. This time it was not Strausser because he had ordered him to play that sick game. This time it was a Neville with nothing to lose. A Neville out of control. Bass fought the urge to scream, to yell, to throw up. He relaxed his thumb, played with the trigger as he wanted to asshole dead, but he was still standing too close to Charlie for him to take the actual shot and end this all.

And then, Neville pulled the trigger. He might have gasped or screamed at Neville or maybe not. But in the second Bass realised Neville was pulling the trigger, time stood still. A world where it was definite that Charlie would not be there anymore, as he could feel how it would be. The sharp blunt cold warm attack of his body and heart that followed next was strong. He felt dread deep in his gut and a acid fear of losing her, spreading fast. The sound of Neville's empty gun came before the second he pulled his own gun.

Neville crashed to the floor. There she was. All of her. Leaving him with a full view of her tears, and death fear, and shocking blue eyes that would fill a corner of his heart after this day from now on.

He knew she knew he was here.

Charlie.

But she did not see him.

Within second he was with her, with his blue eyes dark and filled with starting tears and adrenaline of his own, pulling her against his chest. Her smaller shoulders and trembling body as he circled his arms around her. His chest, where she was safe, where she was with him, where he could feel her and he never had to let her go again.

Charlie let him hold her, over and over again.

The Marine in him told him they had to move. Those shots would carry far. Too damn far. Without letting her go, he walked her away, away from what was once Neville, now gone, now over, a whole family of Neville gone, out of the story.

Charlie was still close, she was still letting him hold her. Until she pushed him away and he could hear how she started to heave. Her whole body tense and trembling. He moved behind her, his hand slowly and loosely and gently on her sides now.

'Hey, it's okay. Let it out.' He was surprised at how his voice sounded, a tone in his voice he had almost forgotten. Surprised at how she was able to pull something even close to this out of him every time, Charlie being able to bring back of who he was, as he found words of comfort he thought he could not utter anymore. It's over Charlie, I've got you.'

It tore him apart that his words seemed to work. That he was able to bring her some kind of comfort. When she could breathe again, he walked her over to a passage under some trees. He sat her down, and crouched down before her. And there, under the sky, on the grass, Charlie left her warm forehead lean into him, against his chest, as he just sat with her.

He had her.

* * *

It was on a Thursday morning around 11 o'clock in the morning that one hand, red with dried blood and dirt on it, stood out above tall grass on a abandoned golf course.

Charlie had been screaming his name, more times than she had been able to count. The contours of her mom, and Monroe in the landscape around her. Monroe, the stubborn ass, had refused to let her go out of his sight. The both of them sharing a road and some common ground again. They had left camp together this morning, step next to step, her boots next to his.

The both of them knowing what happened in the safe house shared in their minds. Forming something that could not be broken again.

The hand floated above the grass as Charlie heart dropped, her stomach turned and one big final wave of fear came over her. She had to close the distance as fast as she could. And then fear started to give way. She ran through the grass, dropping her pack into the grass. Miles. Miles.

It was the first time she saw him, the first time she saw  _her father_.

Tears and the instinct to take care of him this time kicking in.

'I've got you,' Charlie muttered, as she tried to keep her voice as steady as she could, putting her hands under Miles' head, as his eyes were unfocused, his skin covered in soot and blood, 'I've got you.'

And then, Charlie looked up. 'Monroe!' Her voice carried far, reaching him. The moment she watched the change in his body, she knew he had heard her. He would rush over. He would do whatever it took to get him out of here. She just knew. He had her, he had Miles. It was the start of feeling somewhat safe again. Charlie was focussed on Miles again, touching his skin with her hands, gentle words comforting him, as Miles looked torn and exhausted, until Monroe and her mom were at their side.

Charlie did not want to let Miles go, not ever again. But when she had to, it had to be to Bass. It was to let Bass carry him back to camp. She watched the love between brothers, as one brother dragged the other back to safety.

Charlie was with her both men, the whole way back.

* * *

'Come here,' Miles said from his cot and with a rough tone, because his voice was torn with soot, dehydration and exhaustion.

Charlie moved over to him, the small tent with the green canvas surrounding them. His voice. The lines of his neck she knew so well. The dark scruff that matched the line of his jaw. The necklace around his neck that had belonged to his father, the rope of the necklace around his neck. Stubble, dark hair. His nose. The way his scent reached her now, like it had done before.

'God, you are stupid.' She sounded pissed off, because worry turned into being pissed at him for being a moron. Miles gave her a weak smile.

And then his long arms were around her as Miles buried his nose in her neck and held her tight.

They had carried him back, Monroe breaking in a sweat but never wanting to let go of Miles. Her grandpa had checked on him the moment they had reached camp, tending to the wound on the lower part of his stomach. They had gotten him on a small cot in the tent just outside the centre of camp.

She had been with him the whole time, knowing Monroe was around. She had given her mother a warning with a stern look to give Monroe room to be here with Miles as well.

When Rachel walked into the tent and the end of the day, Charlie commanded her out of the tent. Before she walked away from the cot, her fingers lingered on Miles' arm. 'Get some sleep.'

Miles nodded, his eyes now closed as he was already asleep again.

'You are going to tell him,' Charlie hissed at Rachel when they were outside in the shadow of the tent. Rachel's eyes went back to Miles inside the tent, ' Not now, he needs to sleep. But you will.' Charlie's voice was flat but coated with pain. 'I refuse to live this lie of yours.'

Charlie walked back into the tent immediately, sensing the eyes of Monroe on them just outside the tent, a little further ahead. She crouched down next to Miles' cot. She settled in next to Miles. Laying next to him gently, not to wake him up.

'Seriously kid?' Miles voice was flat and a bit raspy, as he teased her. But he made room for her, her smaller body next to his.

'Morons don't get to have a say in this.' She said, a grin forming around her lips. Her nose close to his chest and upper arm, her head on the nook between shoulder and chest. She took in the scent that was him. She did not want to go without it, she couldn't.

She did not sleep on her own bedroll that night. She couldn't. She needed to hear him breath and see his tall body and dark hair in the night.

Charlie slept next to Miles, with her hairs splayed out over him, beside him.

She was drifting off to sleep. When she woke up with Miles' deep asleep, snoring and his scent close to her, and felt the old panic return of, it was Bass' hand on her hair that brought her back to sleep between Bass and her uncle.

Bass had watched his brother, with Charlie. Fast asleep as he had found a place with them in the tent. Ignoring the bitch' eyes. Ignoring his kid's whining. He needed to be here. See his brother. Alive. Like he had done so many times before, out there, in the field, when they were younger, when they got older. He watched Charlie lost in a dream, turned into a nightmare. He crouched down next to the cot, next to her sleeping form under Miles' arm. He reached for her, gently going through her hair, his larger hand on her head, calming her down. When she fell back asleep, this time more calm, he sat back, back to his place next to them for the night. He knew they had his brother, him and Charlie. He knew her brother held her, as both him and Miles were there, watching her through this night.

_One week later_

Miles had been getting stronger with the day. Too stubborn to do anything else.

It was the end of another day at camp, and Charlie could not take her mother's silence anymore. She knew that tomorrow, tomorrow would be the day. She did not wanted to sleep in the tent anymore. She did not wanted to share a fire alone.

So, she made a choice.

This time Charlie walked over to the fire herself, when she left the tent behind where her mom and Miles were asleep. This time Charlie walked to Monroe. This time Aaron did not have to catch her. This time Monroe did not have to pull her of the ground. This time, she walked. Strong. Alone. Independently. Making her own choices and finally feeling she could make them with her whole heart behind it. Something changed. As she realised she had choices.

And they were hers to make.

Without any words she looked at him. He looked back. Both of them tired and beaten through hell. Both of them relieved that he made it back to them.

_Miles._

She slept again, next to him. Bass. Monroe. Or maybe this was the night he became both. She slept again, next to the same fire as she did when things had been so hard.

Only this time, she gravitated over to his warmth. He let her, seeking out hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and your reviews for this story. They are so kind and I love reading them. They inspire my writing even more. Thank you so much! As you maybe can feel in the story, Bass' and Charlie's story are intertwining more and more. I am writing them less and less completely apart, the way I did in the first chapter.  
> More of the story in next chapter, where there will be a hard conversation between Miles and Rachel, a look back to what happened between Charlie and Rachel and...more Charlie and Bass.  
> Love from Love


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie woke up, with the sound of the camp around her. Her chin somewhere around the level of his chest. He had turned her way, she had turned his. When she woke up, even with her eyes shut, she could feel him. Monroe was awake. She lay close, closer than she had in a while. Closer than she had ever been when she could feel, even with her eyes shut, how he was broad next to her. Her eyes still shut. She could smell the last burn of the wood of the fire that had kept her warm.

 _He_ had kept her warm. He had been there before.

What happened between them unspoken. But there too.

She opened her eyes. She watched the lines of his neck, she smelled the scent of his jacket. He was awake, she knew it. She knew him well enough to know.

Bass had watched her, when the night was there and the fire had casted a slow light on her face. Deep sleep, messy greasy curls that complemented the softness of her lips. They had slept before like this, on the road back from Vegas to Willoughby. Close. But not this kind of close. Not like this, not when her hand was travelling in her sleep and on its way to his arm, barely room between them.

Not like before, when she had to choose him to stay warm, barely tolerating him next to her.

She was here because she wanted to be there. Without a promise of a Republic, without him having to offer and force his help in this raging battle against kaki.

And fuck, he felt it. All of it. All of her. Knowing she would leave his side again soon, wishing she didn't. Her head had been somewhere on the same level just under his shoulder and next to his chest, without Bass touching actually her touching her. Realised he wanted to touch her, wrap her into his chest, letting his arm go under her head and keep her there against him.

She did not know if he had moved during the night or that she had turned this way. But her smaller body was right there next to him, completely shielded from anything or anyone, as the line of his taller body took care of her.

Today she knew there was no way around it anymore. Today, those warm deep dark eyes would turn into more. And she felt dread. Dread for everything it could mean. For what Miles would tell her, for what she would find out when she would look at him the moment he would know.

She would have to get up soon, get up and move away from this fortress of broad chest and wild scruff.

* * *

It was only a small distance, the distance from her fire to that tent right up there. But everything seemed to move in slow motion, as Charlie felt determined to get through this. The camp felt weird, like it was there, but not there.

Aaron walked up to her. He knew, one look at her face and he knew.

'Hey kiddo,' he said, a warm tone in his voice.

Charlie smiled shortly at him, at the way he always was there for her. For his kind warmness. For eyes behind glasses and a beard, a messed up t shirt that was so much Aaron. She also knew what he was here for. What Aaron offered without her even having to think of asking for it. That was Aaron. Loyal. Leaving her to be her, supporting. Just like that day in front of a building where she had watched Monroe get into, after being so sure she would lose him in Willoughby. She had cried and he had been there, no questions asked.

'Not today Aaron,' She said, her eyes going from him to her mom, who was standing in the opening of the tent, her frame filled with tension, she could see it in her mother's every move.

Aaron nodded, understanding. Charlie loving him even more for that.

'Well, than I will be checking in on Priscilla...' he said, giving her a nod filled with courage and admiration for this girl. As Charlie walked away she heard him mumble something about Priscilla, something about music and pizza she did not understand. She focused again on the tent in front of her.

Rachel met her in front of the tent. Charlie kept walking and kept eye contact with her mom. Telling her, that without a doubt, today she  _would_  tell Miles. She watched her mom, her eyes going from her to Miles.

Miles looked up to the both of them about to say something. Still not as strong as he had been, but getting there. The wound in his lower abdomen had been deep. But he  _was_  back to his drinking dark sarcastic self.

Rachel looked helpless, as Charlie felt tension running high. She did not know what to feel, she just knew it had to happen.

'Okay, both of you,' Miles looked from his niece to Rachel and back to Charlie, 'what in the hell is going on here?' His voice went sharper towards tensed anticipation in the tent.

Rachel knew that this was the day she had been dreading for twenty two years, since the moment she held the pregnancy test in her hands, knowing that it was him. Secrets and lies in the open, a torn paper with the result of a DNA test confirming what she knew in her heart. She had burnt it in the fire place outside in their garden.

Breaking from the past she realised she was now here between the two people that were her group of people. Guilt and shame started to build in her eyes. Guilt for Charlie and Miles, but the shame, the shame start creeping in for her daughter, for Ben. For them all.

'Miles, I...' She looked straight at him, but tears were ambushing her. She straitened her back, her lips twitching in a nervous matter, 'I'm sorry, I'm...Miles, there is something I need you to know.'

Miles looked at Charlie, looked at Rachel.

'Something I should have told you then, I should not have kept this, from any of you, and I am so sorry...'

'Rach, what's wrong?' There was a small sense of compassion in his words for her, only for a couple of seconds, when a Rachel in tears tore right through him.

That was until he watched Charlie behind Rachel, almost in tears too. Her eyes watercolour blue. And he watched her, locked eyes with hers and he realised this was one of those moments where he knew what he knew, before he knew, as he watched Charlie and then returned to Rachel.

Miles eyes were filling with the start of dark tears, which he pushed away. His heart was beating like he was preparing for battle. A cold sharp shot of knowing what was next was starting to build up in him as Rachel continued.

'Charlie, she is yours Miles. She is yours.'

Rachel intuitively stepped towards Miles, crying openly now with a nervous broken look on her face, unsure what to do with her hands. 'I'm so sorry...I...'

Miles was stunned. Literally unable to move as his eyes were deep and burning.

Charlie felt the shift in him, watched his every move. She knew it was here, that one moment. That one moment she had been dreading, knowing she would read him whole in this moment. She watched shock and disbelieve and then she watched rage.

'How could you do that Rachel,' Miles' voice boomed through the tent, his normally so calm flow of words reaching a high in his tone of utter disbelieve and worlds crashing down. Realising that this girl, this stubborn, loyal, refusing to not give him a second change girl was his.

His.

Images flashed through his mind, the moment Ben called and told him she was born, the pictures he had sent him and that Bass had helped to open on his phone because he could not figure it out because he did not know shit about phones and honestly had been shaken up with pride for his niece. The way he had talked about her to Bass on base, the moment he had dragged Bass to see her on leave, her birthdays, and she had been in his arms, and in Bass' arms and she had played with his hair and made them into princesses in the garden until she had decided they were knights and castles were make believe castled in the garden around them. The moment he had wanted to get her in Chicago when the world had stopped. Images that would not stop until he was back in the tent. And the sense of betrayal was next.

And he looked at his daughter for the very first time. Looked at an unsure Charlie in tears.

His.

Miles was about to take another step towards Rachel . Bass had kept quiet, but he had been around. Connor not far away from him, outside the tent. Both men standing next to each other. Shock, pain and disbelieve in their own minds and bodies for what was happening right in front of their eyes.

Bass had been unable to stay the away,  _hell_ , needing to know if she was all right, if his brother was all right pushed him to the tent like gravity. His kid had been supporting there for him, for Charlie as something somehow had shifted inside of him these past couple of days.

The moment he had heard Miles' voice, his brother spinning out of control, , he had stepped into the tent and between him and Rachel to make sure Miles would not take another step towards Rachel, as Bass was not able to see any more of this landing on Charlie's shoulders.

Bass watched Charlie, and saw how this ripped right through her. His heart broke not for Miles, but also for her. Her eyes were shooting from her mom to Miles. The way her eyes filled with pain and Miles was all over the fucking place with rage and hurt and shock was the only reason he stepped in. He ignored Rachel.

'Hey, come on man,' he said, walking towards Miles, firmly but at the same time with a tone in his voice that was formed through years together as brothers. As much as he resented and still felt raging rage for Miles for keeping his kid away from him all those years, somehow he was not able to  _not_  feel Miles' dark pain in this moment. And fuck, had it not always been just like that.

Miles stood still, Bass right there next to him.

Miles' face was shaped in rocky edgy lines, as his mouth was tight. He breathed in through tears that were filling his brown eyes. Without looking at Bass he calmed himself down. For Charlie. Not for Rachel, because hell, as much as he loved her, he just felt rage now.

'Hell, Rachel, I know it was hard. Us. I know all right. But how could you keep this? Keep this from her? From Ben? From me? You let her walk Rach, right after we I dragged you back from the tower. Without the truth. Without telling me the truth.'

'Miles, I...' Rachel started. Her eyes wide and blue and filled with pain and so much guilt for so much.

'Why Rach, why?' Miles was yelling again. Torn between the amount of love he felt for Rachel and the dark disbelieve that came out in anger and his whole face torn in starting tears of powerlessness.

'Because I could not lose her too.' Rachel screamed back, her voice high with tears and regret that came too late.

* * *

The moment Rachel had started to scream back to Miles, Charlie could not take it anymore. She had to leave the tent.

Miles turned her way, not sure he could move, telling himself to move his ass to get her. But Rachel, their past. Their mistakes, their guilt and shame, it all kept him in one place.

Bass was quick on his feet, he turned towards the exit of the tent.

He nodded, making a decision for Miles even before Miles had to make it, as he grunted towards Miles. 'I'll get her.'

Rachel and Miles stood still in the middle of the tent, as Miles could only look at his brother shortly, deep brown eyes nodding back.

Bass looked towards Rachel. The bitch was looking back. God, he swore, after this, he would not take any of her condescending holier than thou shit. She looked at him as he threw eyes of his steel at her on the way out, on the way out to follow Charlie.

* * *

Charlie had not been sure where she had been going. The shadows of the trees right above her were moving fast over her face. She had to leave that tent, she could not stay. Not stay and find out what Miles would say next, what Miles what do next. She could not feel it, so much brokenness, she couldn't. She had not even noticed Monroe getting into the tent until he had been there.

He was here now too, she realised it too late as she heard the extra steps of boots. She did not wanted to be with anyone, she could not share whatever the hell she was feeling. She had to run, walk, be alone. She sped up again.

Bass saw and felt her pick up the speed. He could not let her run, these woods were still filled with those kaki assholes and maybe she did not give a fuck about that, he did.

Charlie felt him. So she ran faster. That worked until he caught her, his fingers over her arm. He slowed her down, but she could not face anyone. Not him. Not Monroe.

He would let his eyes crash right in hers, see right through her. And she could not afford that. She couldn't. So she did what she was good at. She started to fight her way out.

'Charlie, dammit, stop it.' He used his left arm to contain her fighting fists aimed at the powerlessness she felt, now directed at him.

He understood, he had been fighting his brother like this once after he had run from the office of his superior, and he had run of base, with nowhere in mind as he had to outrun the hurt of knowing he would not ever go home again. Miles had followed him, caught him, held him. As he fought and fought until he couldn't. Until he had been sobbing into his brothers arm on a field close to a highway just outside base on a summer morning in august, on a normal Wednesday that would ne never normal again.

Now it was his turn to catch her, slow down her hurt.

'Charlie, stop.' His voice was rough, out of breath, but still, there was warmth.

She felt the energy to fight flow out of her as his chest of solid rock steadiness was still there. When they stopped he still held her arm. She jerked her arm loose and away from him.

'It's not safe here, Charlie.'

'Since when do you care?' Still lashing out.

Bass voice was harsher and his eyes were filling with the start of disappointed hurt.

'Do you really need me to answer that?' He barked back, his voice was low and edged with rawness.

Blue eyes were waiting right in front of him, and he watched the moment she answered him silently.

He breathed harshly.

'Come on, let's go back.'

'I can't.' Charlie said, her voice filled with flat determination.

'And why is that?' Bass bit back roughly, while he was losing his shit and patience fast, as he really needed to get her back to camp safely.

'Because what if he does not want me?' She did not yell, but her voice was strong and sharp when she looked at him.

It was the moment Bass realised that the fear about being left alone, about no one wanting you, about no one seeing you anymore that was deep within him, was within her too.

So here they fucking were again. Alone. A path under the trees. Minus an unconscious bounty hunter somewhere on the ground. Close. Again.

Charlie's mouth opened in shock and what she had just told him.

Bass just wrapped his hands around her cheeks, turning her eyes that were filled with tears towards his.

'Charlie, Miles, he already loves you. No matter what bullshit is going on between him and your mom. He maybe does not talk about it much, but he does. Believe me, I know Miles. I know that moron. He does. He wants you. He is there for you. You are his family.'

Charlie just looked at Monroe, realising just how that part of her that saved him many times, that made her come back for him in Vegas, that knew that had to be more of him, was right. As she felt large calloused hands around her cheeks. Her tears flowed all over his hands.

She let his eyes comfort him, there. Where there was no one else around them to see. There under the trees on a silent path with the camp not that far away where he did not mock her. He just held her head between his hands as she slowly moved one arm up, her fingers gravitating towards his under arm, twirling around his strong muscles, as her fingertips moved over her skin.

Bass had given her time, before he had walked her back to camp. Her mom had been sitting next to her grandpa on a log, her face pale as Mile stood alone in the tent, a bottle of booze closely on a old wobbly table. Charlie walked into the tent with her hands before her chest. Miles looked at her, the evidence of tears so unlike him and gripping her. They had greeted the other with a soft  _hey_. Bass telling them both he was outside. Implications laying in those words that moved away the sharpest edge of the conversation.

'You lied.' Charlie stood face to face with Miles.

Mile was aware of the bottle next to him. Still untouched, but his fingers had been aching to touch it. He had watched Bass walking towards the tent with Charlie. He knew he let her down. He had done it again. Failing to reach her in Chicago, sending her away in Chicago when she came looking for him, Nora and Maggie having to pull him back for wanting to leave again, because his own dark shit had threatened to become too much. Standing here with her in this tent, went against anything in him that wanted to drink his shit away. But he couldn't.

He knew what she meant. She had asked. Asked before. If there was something. Between him and her mom. He had evaded the question. He knew it was the same as lying. He had not told her the truth she deserved.

'I have been with her. One time. It was wrong, wrong and messed up and not what Ben deserved. We betrayed in many ways, in more ways than one.'

He told himself to stay put. Stand there, and take whatever the hell would come next.

It was the Marine in him, the General. And then he realised.

It was the father in him.

'Believe me kid, This whole fucking mess. It won't change a thing. Ben was your father, just as much as I am yours. He loved you, he was a good man. And I won't come even close to that.'

He watched Charlie eyes soften in front of him, already reading in them how she disagreed with that last part. Her loyalty, her blazing love he doubted she completely understand she was giving him now. It was what brought him back. She did not even know she was giving. It was too much.

It was everything.

Her rock solid believe in him, after all the hell he had created, after everything that would fill him with hate and shame for ever.

But her eyes, this kid. This kid filled with so much of Ben, of Rachel.

Of him.

Because he saw that, saw it so soon. On the road. With her, with Aaron, with Maggie. A part of himself, reflected in her.

He pushed himself towards that part of himself. He took another step, his dark hair, his dark eyes, his hand dying to go to the hilt oh his sword, giving him something to do as the laces of his boots were wildly unruly tied. Miles watched her as everything else did not matter at this point. He needed her to know.

That day. Miles Matheson exposed a piece of his heart he had not given away in such a long time.

It was the same kind of love he felt for Bass. For Ben. Deep unchanging love.

Although this love, it was even more. The love for a part of yourself, for a child, for your child.

'And I will make myself perfectly clear here.' His voice as strong as the General inside of him, the fighter. His voice as strong with the loved he felt his his kid. His words steady and a rock and a foundation he hoped would make her understand how much he meant this, 'There is nothing,  _nothing,_  I would not do for you kid.'

He poured all the love he felt for her into that last word. It reached through the tent. Translating everything there that needed to be said into that one word.

Charlie felt herself lifted up, as fears of not being wanted casted away, realising how much strength of Matheson love lay in his words.

He did not give her or himself any more time as he did what he had to do, as he moved her where she had to be. He just grabbed her arm, and pulled her into his own arms. Charlie started to fight him, her own hurt, and shock and a part of her shining because Miles, he meant so much to her, his words meant so much to her, those brown eyes that felt like home meant so much to her.

She fought him as she tried to push him away, as Miles remembered a day long ago where Bass had fought him, Bass shocking shoulders in his arms on that field, and tears started to come out as she felt a storm of new emotions she thought she was not able to feel.

She was wrong.

Miles's love made her strong enough to feel them all, as he just held her, not too tight, but without letting her go as he caught her fighting back. He cried with her. He let her. He let her rage, he let her cry. And when his hand went from her lower back , brushing and soothing her shoulders, towards the back of her head, resting against her messy dark blonde curls, she just cried. She stopped fighting. He held her for a very long time.

And as Miles felt her shoulders locked inside his arms, he looked up, and when he looked up it was to find Bass' eyes there with them. Standing outside. Waiting for him.

They were the blue eyes that he relied on so many times from the beginning, as life brought them here, all the way back from a small town in Indiana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I love how you are all giving me such kind feedback. I know there is a lot happening here, and in next chapter, it is time to let it come together, as Charlie and Bass are not only together, through eye locks and being there for the other, but also through words and so much more. And I think my love for Miles shines through here too. The rest of the season, looks a lot differently because everything that has happened here, as truths came out, as brotherhood came back and everything shifted to a new place because of that.
> 
> Love from Love


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In last chapter, we found out what secret Rachel has kept from Miles and Charlie in a very big confrontation. Charlie fell asleep next to Monroe, as she chose to sleep next to him this time, near a fire and near his scruff and wide shoulders. In this chapter there will be more of Charlie's anger towards her mother, a moment between Bass and Miles, more about what happened with Rachel, a hint of Nora and...one moment, intense and honest, near the fire, when Charlie takes a step towards Monroe.

Choices, chapter six

She was Charlie Matheson. He was Miles Matheson. That meant that after that long intense moment in that tent, where Rachel had almost brought him through his knees with the truth. When she had revealed the secret she had been carrying with her for nine months and the rest of Charlie's life. When his dark brown eyes had filled with tears. Where he had held dark blonde curls close and she had fought him and then surrendered to her head against his shirt and his stubbornness to let her go, covered by the canvas and shielded from the rest, they both walked out.

When she had stilled in his arms and her tears had hit his shirt, Miles had been starting to realise he was a father now, holding his daughter for the very first time. She was his daughter for the first time.

As they maybe had felt this truth already, when she had pulled him out of the dark and he had told her he was not going anywhere. When she had whispered in despair to a Maggie already gone that everybody left her. Feeling and truly seeing her pain for the very first time. Guilt for ever leaving her alone. Dark memories of a Bass near the graves of his family, abandoned and alone too, when he had told him he was here, almost the same thing he had told Charlie, crashing unwanted into his mind.

When he had to watch the conscription boat from the shore, Nora walking up to him and sitting next to him in the dark, telling him all kinds of crap about him being a lot like a parent in that moment. He had watched the boat, craving her next to him again as Nora had sat down next to him, her smaller legs and her knee close to his. Never leaving his side, supportive, strong, warm. Just like she had always been to him.

When he had begged her to open her eyes in a tunnel under Philly, her warm cheeks in his hand. His tears falling onto her cheeks. He remembered the despair of losing her, of disappointing her. She had heard him. She had come back to him.

Charlie walked next to Miles, the familiarity of his taller body next to her. Thankful that he was not somebody who would talk endlessly because they understood each other without much talking. No emotional crap as Miles would call it. Just silently knowing that he was there. That it was the truth when he told her that he was right there.

Miles slowed down his step, making sure she stayed close to him when they walked through camp. He had meant every damn word just now. That there was nothing he would not do for her, as he watched her blue eyes, her stubborn look and a swing in her shoulders that was so much of him.

Nothing had been easy in their lives.

Nothing probably ever would.

But they still fought together, he was still there, she was still there. Rage and shock still there. But knowing they would figure it out. But when she thought back about what her mom did, said, hid, Charlie was not sure about her mom, if  _they_ would ever figure it out.

She felt her mom's eyes as she walked through camp, alongside Miles, almost a week after they had found Miles. Every time Charlie had to see Rachel, she watched her mom and her mind showed her the moment that broke things open for good over and over again.

_She had been exhausted, walking out of camp to find Miles, walking back without him to sleep, eat, throw water in her face from a bucket she found somewhere to bring her back to herself. And go out there, to do it all over again. With her mom. With Monroe, moody and an asshole as he had ever been._

_All of them out there for Miles after she had walked out first. Walked out that first night without a second though, when Miles had not been there at camp where he should have been, the moment she walked in with the Monroe's. She had, to her relive, greeted Aaron, told him that if he would ever leave her again she would kill him. That relive did not make it far. Because when she had seen her mom, her mom who had told her Miles had not been there, bitter worry started to grow._

_Monroe had been sitting on a log near a fire, when she had walked past him. And Charlie had felt his eyes on her, had felt Connor's eyes on her, but she also was not ready to wait for anyone. She had felt and heard Monroe's heavy boots in the sand behind her soon, leaving the camp and Connor behind. He had fell into step with her, both of them knowing Miles should have been back by now. Knowing this could be everything they feared._

_A night passed, a morning came. And then the late afternoon arrived where she had walked into the tent that they had sat up so her grandpa could look after the men and woman that needed his care. Ad one nervous twitch of her mother's mouth had set her on edge. Normally that twitch came with her old notebook, with her curling into her hair with a finger or two, or it came dealing with Miles and Monroe. Rachel looked pale her eyes defeated and like a caged animal at the same time._

' _Mom, what is going on?' First Charlie had felt worry about Rachel, worried she had to start worry about putting her mom back together, to grab her literally from the ground again, make her eat and sleep, and wash her hair and get her dressed and take care of her, like she had done for her mother after the tower with Miles and Aaron._

_Worried had turned into shock and feeling sick to her stomach fast when Rachel had looked paler and had started to open her mouth without forming words. Her grandpa standing close, asking the same question._

' _Come on mom, let's go out and find Miles.' Charlie said firmly, one last attempt to keep a ship in the harbour that was already loose on a wild sea._

_She flinched herself when her mother almost lost it at hearing Miles' name._

' _I can't...' Rachel started._

' _You can't what mom?'_

' _I am sorry, so sorry...we have to find him...I'_

' _We will find him mom,' Charlie nodded towards Rachel, tension around her own features now._

' _What are you talking about Rachel?' gene asked._

' _It's Miles.'_

_Time ticked away as Charlie knew._

' _Mom...' Charlie's voice sounded low and slow and was filled with hurt to come._

_Rachel started to stammer._

' _Mom, what about Miles?' This time Charlie was yelling. Adding more pressure, looking at Rachel who could only look at her like she was under some spell._

_And then, she did speak and it was like a mountain tumbling down on them._

' _He is your father!' Rachel yelled back._

_Charlie could only look at her mom in shock. True horrified shock. She looked from her grandpa to her mom, her grandpa who had an almost knowing look on his face._

_Betrayal. Hurt. Anger. One followed the other so fast she did not know what to feel first._

_Miles. Out there. If they never found him, if he did not make it, they..she would never get the chance to...It was t that thought that made her take a step back from Rachel. And then another. It was at that moment that Rachel stepped towards Charlie. And then another._

' _You stay away from me, mom.' Charlie yelled through her first tears. Her eyes, wild and with anger now stopped Rachel. She turned towards the exit of the tent. She took another step, and then another. Passing people who went about their day in camp, the sun almost gone, darkness creeping in._

_Miles. Her father. Her. Father. Hers. Deep dark eyes that made her feel safe and warm. Did he know. Did he know and chose not to want her?. Hate, rage, shock for her mother bubbling just under the surface. Needing Nora, needing Ben, her dad. No. Needing Danny. Needing them all, right here. Panic was what next, grey hurt washing it out again._

_All bringing her down through her knees. Aaron was around. She could only cry. Cry for all of them, cry for how much she was not sure he could take. Aaron held her. Held her as tears and cold closed in on her._

So she had cried, as Aaron had held her. She had cried until Monroe was there, his scent of leather close.

His hand under her knees, his other hand somewhere on her back, lifting her up and away from the ground and the side of her face felt his strong warm chest. Maybe it was because he was so close to Miles. Maybe because of the trust they had been building, without her even realising it. Trust she somehow now felt to her fingertips. It was probably why she had let him carry her over to his fire.

Right now she was more sure of MOnroe fighting with them than She was sure if things would ever work out between her and her mother. The feeling growing only stronger as she walked through camp and the whole outburst of truth and shock came back as her mind kept playing on the memories.

But she was sure of Miles. Of the way he could put his heart right in front of her, torn and worn and filled with guilt and shame. Filled with love and protectiveness for her.

The days moved forward, the threat out there growing. The pieces were on the board, but their next move was not yet decided. Lots of discussion was there, a impatient Monroe and a Miles who was not sure if he could be the General once more. Things between her mom and Miles were as bad as she had ever seen. Miles had reassured her they would figure their own shit out, and told her with his eyes that she could count on him here.

She gave Miles a quick nod, before parting with him at the south boarder of their camp.

* * *

 

Miles watched his kid,  _his kid_ , the words pounding through his chest as he did not wanted to dump any more of his or Rachel's bullshit and past, their bullshit, on Charlie's shoulders. He had told her he would figure it out, wanting to spare her from more hurt. He watched her walk away, her confident step throughout their camp. God, she had changed. Changed from the big blue eyed girl that had walked to Chicago to find him, bringing the whole damn Militia with her. Changed into this young strong and most of all loyal fighter. She was still his. He was proud, proud and aching for her at the same time, that he had failed to let her grow up and have a life she wanted in another world.

Things between Rachel and him had always been hard. Secretive. Seduction in silent corners, stolen looks on her wedding day. That one night in Chicago when they had both taken that route that lead to never be able to move back from it, and Charlie. That night that had been hard kisses and deep lust and fast heartbeats and his hand against her breasts and one hand one her ass as he pushed her against him, pumping into her with wanting to feel all of her and Rachel had kept his head between her hands as she had leaned against his wide thigh.

That night in Chicago that had ended in dark guilt and him leaving her at that airport when he had to go, follow Bass, and she had come to ask him, to beg him for everything. They had been so young. He had left her there, near the parking lot in the dark. Taking a flight away from her, from that airport and all the shame. And her warm body next to him.

Not because he didn't wanted to desperately push her against him, but because he couldn't. Ben was the better man, he could not do that to his brother, as much as he wanted her. Rachel was not his. She belonged to Ben. To a guy who could give her a family, a home. The guy with a degree, with stability and not such a messed up heart as he had.

A sting of hurt reached him as he sat down in the small tent he had spend many, hell, too many days in since Charlie found him in the middle of that field , and he realised, truly and fully realised that she had walked away with the new life they had made. With Charlie.

It was at that moment he heard boots, boots he knew and would know everywhere. He looked up.

Bass watched him, the weariness and hurt in his brothers' eyes. Miles' slumped shoulders. The way his left boot was always pointed a bit more inwardly, as he sat down. His coat loose, the necklace that Bass was once gave him on the birthday of his father, still around his neck.

Bass reached out a bottle to him, his leather jacket open, as he threw back the flap of the tent as he walked in.

Miles reached for the bottle, silently thanking Bass for not looking away, even if he would understood he would do just that, after all the bullshit they had been through.

Bass sat down next to his brother, as both men looked straight ahead. At Connor in the distance, at Charlie at the other side of the camp as they both realised their blood, their kids, theirs to protect, were right there.

Their fingers touched as they passed the bottle, without both of them truly noticing because they had done this so many times. Sorrow, hurt, loss, pain, gain, luck, bullshit stories, grinning. Bass took the bottle back, took a swig as they shared a bottle in that tent.

* * *

 

It was at night, the next day, when Charlie made eye contact with him too damn long for him to ignore. She sat down, at the edge of camp, silently watching the flames as he had seen her do so many times. Lighting up the lines of her jaw and chin.

Remembering when it had been just him and her, remembering how much he fucking liked it, having her there, a road with just the two of them. Day after day, seeing her unfreeze just a bit. Watched her hunt. Watched her fight. Trained a bit with her. Impressed with her skills. Realising he was already in over his damn head. Hell, when she had told him he was nothing, there in that pool, it had shot straight to his cock. After that, he had never been able to shake her loose.

He walked towards her, adjusting his jacket when he sat down next to her. The flames falling on the skin just above the v neck of his shirt.

Charlie felt him next to her, as she watched his scruff and the lines of his jaw, next to her, in front of the fire. His thigh almost touching hers, but room still between them. She had watched him, taking big steps as he walked through camp, leadership oozing out of him, as the men around camp responded to him. Small greeting. He was still there, the general. She watched the strength walking through camp. She watched him. Brushing his nose with the back of his hand. Tall. Raw. Watched him until he had noticed her.

They sat in silence. Until he could not take it anymore. Thinking about her letting him close, letting him lift her to his chest. The way she felt against his chest, just like then. Only this time he had felt how she had moved herself completely against his body, willingly.

She had let him comfort her that night when she had slept against Miles' side and wrapped under Miles' arm. The image of Charlie seeking out him when Neville, the asshole, had almost killed her. Her trust in him. Her seeking out his arms, her pressing herself against his chest, her touch, her sleeping next to him near the fire for the past couple of nights. Her hair so close he could take in her scent.

And now, her. Here.

'Charlie, what changed?' His voice was raspy, low.

Charlie heard his voice, the lowness telling her he was wide open for her.

She took a couple of moments to make sure how she was going to tell him. But she did not have to think long, because she already knew.

'When I found Miles, and when I called for you through that field, I just knew you would be there. I just knew I could count on you, that you would take care of Miles.'

Bass eyes were on her, feeling the same he had done when she had not raged at him for leaving her behind in that high school. There had been so many things in her eyes when he had come back, that she had completely managed to draw him in, remove so much he did not know could be removed of his shield, of distance between them. And when they had fought together in that empty gymnasium, he swore, he could almost taste her.

Charlie watched him swallow. She watched eyes she knew now, she had feared never to see again. The softer look in that high school, one look she had never seen before. She had realised, later, much later, what that look had meant and how rare it was for this man to open up to her like he did. She never saw him do it again after that with her. Maybe with Connor, maybe with Miles. But not that often, and not with her. Not  _that_  look.

But here he was again, here she was again. Eyes finding eyes, truths finding truths as he was so close she could take in his scent, the manly sweat on his skin at the end of the day. And she could almost taste him.

And no more interruptions, or fights or Patriots down the hall, would separate her from what she would wanted to say next.

'I knew I could count on you.'

She had to swallow herself, as her eyes were tuning softer, her voice steady as Charlie Matheson was.

'I know I can count on you, Bass.'

Bass could not look away from her, from her eyes, her fucking stunning face and that body of hers damn close next to his.

She kept on looking at him until she got up. She watched the impact, she watched the man she knew was there too. She was not going to play this out as she watched how this affected him. She was not the one to play cruel games with hearts that had already seen too much. She kept on looking at him. And then she slowly got up.

It was like the first drop of rain after a long summer day when she finally bend towards him, and she placed a light kiss at the corner of his mouth. It was warm and strong and could mean so much. It already meant so fucking much.

He felt like a fucking pathetic moron Miles called him all the time. He moved his hand towards her jaw, cupped her cheek and pressed his lips hallway over hers.

And then, she gave him a long look, when she pulled away. She looked over her shoulder when she walked away. Bass watched her walk away, the taste that was Charlotte on his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I wanted to add some back story here, from Nora, from Rachel. And show that the brotherhood is still there. In next chapter, the next part of the story will turn out differently as we saw on the show. And...Charlie and Bass, there will be plenty of room for them!
> 
> A review or feedback is always welcome, I love hearing from you!
> 
> Love from Love


	7. Chapter 7

_One day later_

Staypuft had started to run first. His girlfriend that was still creeping him the fuck out with those eyes of hers, close to him. Miles had been screaming at the whole camp to run. Bass had realised it just after him. Connor had run right in front of him. Charlie had tried to open the hatch of the truck Miles had directed them to. Bass had been pushing everybody on. He had been at her side near the hatch of the large truck within seconds to help her. A deep groan of strength when he had moved the damn thing into motion with all he got.

It had been Mustard gas. And it had cost them many woman and men. Shot, suffocated. An attack with ferocity and violence that they had no answer for.

Bass was raging. They had walked for fucking hours after hiding in the warm narrow space of the truck. Him, Miles and Connor in front of the hatch, Charlie's gun with them too, ready for anything, he had seen the fear of what could happen if they were found out when heavy footsteps appearead outside, in her eyes. Darkness, running. Hiding. He was not the one to hide, to run. They had found a safe house. He walked up to Miles.

He was done waiting, sitting here and cupping their ladies parts. Done with the bitch whining, done with the waiting, done with reading in Miles' eyes what had to be done and watching his brother, the man that had ruled their Republic,  _because dammit, it had been theirs_ , for so long, watching and waiting with guilt in his eyes.

Knowing that even Charlie, Charlie had realised it. She had followed Miles when he had told his kid an her to tie down the cadets that day near the river They had to fight, they had no choice. He had watched her change, had watched her surrender into this fight. Charlie who had been with him, following his lead, that day when they had raided the boot camp, not far from him, as he had watched her. Stood on her own, but still, had followed him. No bullshit, no being in his face like Rachel. She got it, this fighting stubborn mini version of Miles.

'Is that going to open?' he said roughly at Miles, who stood near the counter of the abandoned store turned into safe house, and was checking the wound on his lower stomach. Bass looked at the wound as he let his gun go through his hands.

He checked his gun, checked his clip. Miles shot him a look. Scanlon stood outside, as Bass was growing tired of the man's eyes on him and Miles. Connor stood closely, dark curls, darker eyes.

It had been Gene, Gene who had heard from his girlfriend or whatever the fuck she was, Marion that there would be a load of mustard gas near the station of Willoughby soon. She knew this because she was close to Truman. A relationship she did not care any longer to be in now she knew the truth. She had found them in camp with that truth, after Gene had gone back into town with Miles before the attack. His bitch gave them all the information they needed.

Action. Bass craved it.

'I am done Miles, done with those sons of bitches kicking our ass over and over again. We are going to use that gas Miles. We fucking are. In some way or the other, we are. And I am done listening to that bitch, done listening to the old men.' Bass looked at the other side of the room, where Rachel was sitting.

Rachel looked up from the spot she was sitting with Aaron, Priscilla, Marion and Gene.

Charlie kept her distance from her mom, leaning into the wall behind her. She heard how Bass did not mention her. He was raging, she could see his eyes go more dark, the muscles in his neck straining, even bringing out the wideness of his neck more. Even in this light, from the moon on this dark night, she could see the light reflect on the glistening of sweat on his neck. She heard how even in his rage, he did not put her in the same corner with her mother and grandpa.

She knew why.

But hearing it, it should not touch her the way it did.

Rachel got up from her place. Walked over to Miles. Her voice so soft, but her eyes hard cold ice aimed at Monroe. Connor threw her a condescending look, his chin raising just a bit. He had once, in a different safe house right after he arrived from Mexico, called her a psycho blonde and man, had he been right about that one. His dad had called her a boatload of crazy and again, he was not going to argue with that. Scanlon watched them both from a distance.

'Miles can I talk to you?' Rachel asked Miles, ignoring Connor, ignoring Bass now completely.

Bass huffed, his darker eyes shooting back at Rachel. Shaking his head in disbelieve. He was not sure how much he could take from her, from her icy games.

Miles let out a sigh at Bass huffing. He turned, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He followed her into another room. Dark, silent, away from the rest of their little group and bundles of joy waiting to come back to.

Rachel Matheson stood in front of Miles Matheson, like she had done so many times before. In many places. A motel, an airport, A wedding,  _her_  wedding, parties, that day she had arrived in Philly. The moment he saw her again, there in Philly years later. Many times. Many places.

'Miles, we can't let him do this, we can't. This is Monroe and you know what is going to happen.'

'What do you suggest Rach?' There was irritation in his voice, the love still there, the complex fucked up situation, all there.

'We have to stop him,' Her blue eyes were swirling with what she was going to say next, as she took a step forward and the plan she had been brooding on finally moved into words and intention.

'Make him believe we are over, make him believe he wins. Get under his skin, so you can keep control over Monroe. Make sure he won't use that gas in that train for different things. you can bring it back, I can neutralize it.'

Miles felt a dark sting in his gut. He felt old guilt creeping back from those years he could not go back to. Years he had kept her in Philly, left her with Bass and let Strausser loose on her. But he also felt where this conversation was going.

'You want to play him,' Miles said reluctantly. Looking at her, then looking away from her. His eyes dark brown.

'Yes, he will buy it Miles, all of it.'

Her voice held expectation and anticipation. Realising Miles would chose her, he would.

Miles Matheson stood in front of Rachel Matheson. And he loved her, god he swore he did. She was infuriating and he probably would find some forgiveness for what she did to Charlie, to him, keeping it from him that she was hers, keeping the truth away from both of them.

But here, he put a line in the sand. A line he would not cross. He would fight Bass, stop the moron from going too far, even punched the moron in the face again if he needed to knock some sense in him. He would not follow Bass to that place Miles could not go anymore. They  _would_  fight the patriots and they would win. But not with Bass' dark turns in his mind and thoughts of craving blood and revenge. And not with Rachel playing Bass and using him, here, right in front of him. They would fight. They would win. But not like this.

When Rachel asked him to play his brother, because that was what he would always be,it was because of all that, that Miles said no to her.

Her eyes shot blue ice and disbelieve and her mouth was ready to form words.

'Not going to do it Rach.' Miles said, firm, strongly.

He looked at her as neither of them moved. And then, Miles turned. Leaving Rachel behind in that dark room in the back of their safe house, walking back to the light of the moonlit room at the other side of their safe house.

He nodded to Bass, as Connor walked to him and Miles. Charlie moved in too. Miles looked for her eyes, questioning. One nod, one nod and a pair of dark eyes and blue eyes. One thought remained in his head. He would not play his brother. He just wouldn't.

He grabbed his gun.

'All right, let's get this party on the way, shall we?' Miles said with intent and sarcasm, 'We have some mustard gas to steal.'

When Scanlon, Connor at the back, and Miles, Bass with Charlie in between them and a little bit behind moved on, it was Rachel who leaned into the doorway. She knew she had not lost Miles, but she knew she  _had_  lost her grip, her stand in between Miles and Bass, her entrance to drive them apart.

Charlie felt her mother's eyes on her, but it were the sounds of Miles' and Bass' boots that became everything she focussed on when they disappeared under the trees and out of Rachel's line of sight.

* * *

That night they gathered as much intel as they could, watching the station near Willoughby from their vantage points. Charlie felt Bass'thigh close to his, one bundle of strenght and muscle next to her. They met Joe and his daughter. They did went for the mustard gas eventually. They did. On a dark night, with the moon high above them, Miles and Bass, Connor, Charlie and Scanlon plotted a move, as they found out about a train with a truckload of gas that was right there where Marion said it would be.

They stole the train, a picture from a boys book Bass read a long time ago, Bass there with Miles and Charlie, his kid too. She was fucking blazing every fucking kaki asshole of the train.

And when they stole the train and it was theirs, and Connor grinned at him, Bass felt his heart almost miss a fucking beat when he watched Miles on his knees on the train that moved through the forest.

'Pull the whistle Joe, we just stole a train.' Miles screamed, with a heart running free from days a long time ago.

Bass watched a brother he thought he lost a long time ago.

And when Joe pulled that whistle, and it howled through the air and over them, with the damps of the steam engine, Charlie howled herself, together with the train whistle.

It brought out a fucking grin out of him. When she locked eyes with him he knew she had locked herself for good inside of her.

The train was within their possession not long after they had crashed through a stop sign at the edge of the station, but when they had stopped that night and checked, the wagon turned out empty. It lead them to the heart of Willoughby where the patriots had moved the gas already, barely in time to stop the attack.

It lead them to going after Davis. To a field where brotherhood was restored.

Bass had Davis behind a tree. Connor right behind him, crouched down low in the grass, his eyes on the guy that dared to call himself President. Bass' heavy weapon in hand. Miles, Rachel and Charlie were in front of him, heavily under fire as Davis men were not that amused that they had abducted him. There was no way out of there, nowhere to go, not with the numbers they were crouched down here near this tree line.

And there, next to that tree, over the shots of gunfight, Miles turned his way.

'Take him and get out of here,' Miles yelled over the sounds of their fight as he shot another round of bullets against the closing in Patriots. Seconds seemed to stretch out.

'I trust you Bass.'

Four words. Four words that once had been so naturally between them. Spoken without doubt.

_After the blackout, after years of watching this world going through its knees, after Philly. After Emma, and Connor, and mad decisions, here they were again._

Brothers, mid fight, side by side, heart to heart. With his kid. Connor. With Miles' daughter. Charlie. Trust.  _I trust you Bass._

He looked at Miles, as Miles looked at him one more time. Bass watched Charlie fight, fire her gun with blazing strength. He knew Miles would take care of her, but he had to drink her in like rain. He grabbed Davis' arm, he exchanged one look with Connor as he dragged Davis with him. Dragged him out of this gunfight, put him onto a wagon and set course for an old church where things would unwind, their rendez vous point. They would set up the asshole, make Blanchard see the truth, end the treaty and then, fight the patriots once and for all. That was the plan. Bass had huffed as Miles had proposed it, but he knew his brother. He might sound like a moron, but it could work. Maybe. If not, Bass knew what he would to do the asshole.

And that whole time, the whole ride towards that old church, with Connor at his side and Davis in the back of the wagon, Miles' words rang through his ears.

_I trust you Bass._

* * *

The church was dark. Joe and his friends, covered in Patriot uniform had lured Davis into a false sense of security when they had stormed the church under the false pretence of freeing him. Keeping their guns at them, but playing Davis all that time. Tricked him into admitting the whole damn thing, what they had set up. What they were going to do. It ended up with Frank fucking Blanchard marching his big old ass into the church as Miles whished Davis happy torture as he was taken away by their own men this time. Miles even threw a Merryl Streep bonus sarcasm in, a little reminder of the movies him mom had loved so much.

Connor looked at his dad. Bass nodded at him. And then, his eyes fell on Charlie. They had started this together, once near a fire. And here they were, in this church, standing in front of the other. He caught her eye as she deliberately sought out his. Bass held her gaze before the room around them demanded their attention again. Bass turned, as he started to move to the old man himself, Frank fucking Blanchard.

It was probably because everything went according to plan, just this one time, that no one saw coming what happened next.

Davis was lead away but still had to pass Charlie, and somehow, he found time and opportunity as he spun around, one leap of his arm, well placed and fast. Davis launched his arm at Charlie, and got to her. His hands were around her neck, his fingers already pressing out air she needed. Charlie's eyes were wild as in the shock of the moment Bass and Miles were one second too late, because in that one second Davis had moved around one of their men, grabbing his knife. Fingers were replaced by the cold blade of a knife now, as Charlie was pressed against his tall body, fight and disgust, and fear, there too, running high through her, and her mind was thinking fast.

'Let her go,' Bass grunted, low, with danger and his gun now trimmed at the asshole. He was dead, this guy. He was fucking dead because of this. Rage boiled, as he stood side by side with Miles, who had his gun aimed at Davis' head now too. He felt the cold fear of loosing his child, running through him, gripping him.

'You will let her go, right now.' Miles said, sharp and with all the butcher of Baltimore colour in the tone of his voice.

Charlie watched both men in front of her. Connor not far behind, all watching her, all looking at her as she felt the absolute protectiveness out of their eyes, as she felt their will and strength to fight. As she felt how much this men, this three men, Connor, Miles and Bass, and even more from Bass and Miles, were ready to fight for her.

For her.

Another wave of fear. And then the realisation. Bass. Miles. They would fight this whole world. For her. They would. She watched it in the way their eyes were on her. Dark eyes, blue ones, brown ones. She watched in the way they held their guns. For her.

And then, there, she made a choice. She would fight. For herself, for them. She remembered to breath, she remembered her knife and with one look towards Bass and Miles, with one nod from Bass, she made a choice.

She trusted Bass. She trusted Miles.

Miles and Bass. Brothers. And in synch with getting their girl out of there.

With one yell deep within her, she grabbed her knife, crashed it into Davis' side, who was completely surprised of her ferocity and strength. It gave Bass the window he needed to shoot him through his head. It gave Miles the second he needed to launch himself forward and get Charlie away from the asshole, to cover Charlie as she fell into his arms, on the floor, shielded by him.

Miles held her, as he never wanted to let her go. He had shielded her like this many times, but never, ever, had he felt this. This need to feel the warmth slender frame of her body safe, with him, needing hsi child close, wanting her there, wanting to feel all of it.

Davis was dead.

And Bass, he held his gun close as he slowly lowered it. Connor was aiding the rangers to bring the calm back into the church as time moved on and the Davis'body was removed.

Connor nodded to Bass, and almost nodded at him to go to Charlie, to Miles. Accepting the love of his father for those two people in his life too. They were not the competition for love, Connor realised then and there. They were family. Bass' family. His own family. He nodded towards his father, as he watched his dad. Watched his care for a girl, he liked, he cared for himself too , but that he would never have that bond with, that unspoken bond with eyes and looks, that his dad had with her. He realised it, and took a step back. Watched the people that were his family now too.

Miles kept on stroking Charlie's hair as she had wanted him, and only him. She was strong and though but after all the fight, she needed his arms. She needed to be held. Miles understood it as Rachel was close, but one look at Charlie and Miles had made her take a step back, as Gene lead her away to a bench in the back of the church. She felt Bass' close as she remembered his eyes when he had stood in front of her, when Davis had her in his grasp. Blue eyes. Strong eyes. Eyes filled with the promise to kill. For her. To protect her.

To not leave her.

Miles held her, moved her away from the ground, and carried her outside. He sat with her for a long time. Until she got up again, because that was Charlie too.

'You all right, kid?'

'It's all right Miles. I just have something I have to do.' She said, a weak faint smile on her face.

'Charlie...I...' Miles started, tears Charlie noticed in normally such calm brown eyes.

'I love you too Miles.' She nodded. Smiled. Miles had no words. No words back, as tears now really crashed in.

He gently moved her into his arms, kissed her hair, a whisper only for her,  _I love you kid. Never forget it._

And then, he nodded at her with a nod and a smile around his lips, sending her on her way.

Charlie found him near the wagon. The sun was almost there, the first light arriving for a new day. It was just them. Near a wagon, as Bass stopped to look at her. His eyes betraying him, at how much he was glad to see her.

So here they were agon. Near a wagon, again. The same way they had started their way back to Willoughby from Vegas. Where she had tried to kill Sebastian Monroe, but had seen more of Bass. Where he had saved her life.

Another wagon, but still, the both of them.

Charlie remembred something, how he had told her near that fire, when his ahnds had been around her upper arms, how they had been on the same side, for now.

She realised that this time she wanted to feel those hands.

She also realised something else.

Bass swallowed harshly when she walked up, her hips swining, strength coming through, and she did not stop walking.

She stopped before him, eyes looking straight at him.

Their eyes did the rest.

She moved in, as he was surprised as hell, but still could not fight his arms wanting to move around her. He brushed her cheek right before her lips looked for was a light kiss, a slow kiss. A first kiss.

And then, she looked at him, with that Matheson look, with only what Charlie could bring to the table.

Her words, a strong choice of words, there.

'Same side?'

Fuck, he remmebred her there near that fire, when it was raining, and there was thunder, and him opening up for her, and she not buying it. He rememberd what he had told her. He knew what she was asking for now. He moved a lock of hair back behind her ear.

'Same side, Charlie. No other place I will be from now on.' A low rough edged promise, that made Charlie almost go through her knees.

She jumped, he already knew what she was going to do before she did it, because he caught her, his hand moving over one of her legs, his fingertops deep into her jeans, as she felt his touch everywhere, as she moved her body against a wide chest, and she let him kiss her, deeply and strongly and tall and wide and hard, like the man he was, her body against the chest that was Sebastian Monroe.

Bass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading. As you can see, there was a lot of the original story of the show, but I wanted to change a couple of things in this version. Neville was already dead, and I wanted to let Connor be there with their group. Scanlon was there too, and well, a Rachel who asked Miles to play Bass too. But here, I did want Miles to stand up for their brotherhood and say no. So Bass, was there when they stole that train. Brothers, and of course to see a fabulous Charlie howl on that train. And then, there was a little twist with Davis.
> 
> There will be a new chapter soon, and then...well, yes, more things happen between them. A review or feedback is always very much appreciated and welcome. I would love to hear from you. Thank you so much for all the love you are sending me for this story.
> 
> Love from Love


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In last chapter, Davis was captured, as Connor and Bass brought him to their meeting point. Everything seemed to work out fine, until Davis caught Charlie and held a knife at her throat. Connor, Bass and Miles worked together to get her out of that. Bass shot Davis, Miles shielded her with his body to get her out of harm. The night ended near sunrise, in a very intense moment with Charlie and Bass near a wagon, in a same way they had started their journey back to Willoughby after he saved her from that bar in Pottsboro. That is where this chapters continues.

The kiss was a hot sizzling explorative kiss, in the shadow of the wagon. She pushed her body more against his wide chest, and she let him kiss her, deeply and strongly and tall and wide and hard, like the man he was, her body wrapped around the chest that was Sebastian Monroe.

Bass.

She tasted him.

After both Miles and Bass, together with Connor, had fought for her life. Right near that wagon, there when there had been Miles shielding her from Davis, after Bass shot him. Miles holding her after he got her away from Davis. There when he had carried her outside in his arms as she had felt both Bass' and Connors eyes on her and Miles . There when he had sat down with her. There when she had gotten up, told Miles she loved him in a rare open moment for them and words needed to be said, and he had whispered he loved her back in her hair.

Charlie had walked over to Bass. Charlie had found Bass.

The kiss that sparked between them, near a wagon, near sunrise, was his lips searching hers. She had literally jumped into his arms, her legs passionately around his body and he had caught her. Tthe scruff of his beard, his moustache sensitive against her chin and lips, as the kiss was rough and so much of them.

Reality, another reality, had pulled them away from the other.

Bass slowly moved her back to the ground as she refused to let go of him yet. One more brush of his lips, before she stepped away. Bass felt her sweet taste, and could not fucking contain himself. He grabbed her by her upper arm when she dared to take another step away from him, and moved his body over hers, a strong wild kiss onto her lips as he left her breathless and nowhere to go.

The smirk around his lips afterwards earned him a roll of her eyes, a raised eyebrow and a Charlie who gave him a pissed of look as he stared at her smugly, right before they had to move out again.

They walked back to the church after securing the horses and making sure the wagon was ready to go. They walked closely, casual distance between them. The step they fell into as his larger boots stepped next to hers. They joined Miles, Connor, Rachel, Gene and Blanchard and the rangers who had gathered around the church.

Rachel threw him a deadly look, as she gave Charlie a cooler one for choosing to not only work with Miles, but also to work side by side with Monroe.

That coolness had been there since she brought back Monroe to the old mill a little north from Willoughby, and Charlie had made no mistake about her intentions when Rachel had asked what Monroe was doing there as Charlie had stepped towards her mother and between Rachel and Monroe.

That cool disappointment had only been magnified the moment she had asked Rachel to safe Monroe's life. Something Rachel had only done to make things not even worse between her and her daughter. More coolness, more distance had followed when Charlie had followed Miles, Bass, Connor and Scanlon into the dark forest to get more intel about the mustard gas, leaving her mother in the doorway of that safe house days ago.

Bass watched her, not throw only a look this bitch had nailed to perfection at him, but also one at Charlie, that made Bass' blood set with rage and throw her back a steal blue look of his own.

He was fine with her being a nagging bitch, he was used to it by now. But Charlie, she should leave her the fuck out of things. She, Miles and him had already made things hard enough for her already. She with destroying this world, him and Miles with adding some more shit. But she, she had her part. He knew this lady. She had brought this world to its knees. One interesting detail she had kept away from her daughter. One detail  _he_  had not fucking forgotten.

He turned his back to Rachel, tension and a hint of rage in the line his jaws as he stood next to Connor. Blanchard walked up to him and Miles, shaking hands with Miles and then with him.

'Monroe, that was a close call back there,' Blanchard nodded to the church.

'The little lady over there all right?' He nodded to Charlie who was walking towards them, catching Blanchard's words. She crossed her arms before her chest and give the older man a once over.

'The little lady is very much all right.' She threw in as much loathing turned into sarcasm for how he had called her into her stern voice.

She heard both Connor, Miles and Bass chuckle next to her as she held out her hand to shake Blanchards without hesitation.

'Charlie Matheson.' She said, in her usual I am taking no bullshit from anyone and certainly not from you tone.

Blanchard nodded her and looked at her with curiosity as he introduced himself.

'So you are Miles' niece?' He asked.

'Daughter,' She corrected him quickly. Watching the all kinds of uncomfortable in Miles's eyes.

'What in the good hell?' Blanchard started.

'Yeah, there have been some developments.' Charlie looked at Blanchard again.

'You could say that again,' Frank admitted, his eyes going wide, now turning his attention to Connor.

'And that makes you...?' Blanchard looked at Connor, so much of Monroe in this kid.

Connor moved towards Blanchard. 'Connor Bennett.' He said with a starting grinn, dark curls in the sunrise, a strong chin, strong jawlines and a strong tone in his voice as he introduced himself.

'I'm afraid this,' Connor nodded towards Bass, '...this is my old man.'

Bass threw him a dirty look at the word  _old_  but then he looked from his kid to Blanchard, as he threw an arm around Connor's shoulder, his strong hand on his kids shoulder.

'Damn straight, Frank. This is my kid. This is Connor.' He padded Connor on his back, pride in his eyes.

Blanchard extended his arm to shake hands with Connor, Connor shaking his with a wide grin and a warmer tone for the amount of pride he heard in his father's voice. Seeing Bass' eyes with warm blue radiating pride, t broke through years of being left alone, through years of bitter disappointment, of not understanding why his mother had send him away, of remembering Miles, resenting Miles from being the one who took him away from Emma. It broke through years living on the streets alone and the years that followed under the roof of a man Connor had believed love him as a father.

He was wrong. This man, standing next to him, introducing him as his son, with pride and warmth. Real love, pride, support and a manly arm his shoulder. This was his dad.

Miles was rolling his eyes at the amount of mushy shit that exceeded the Matheson limit.

'Well gentleman,' Frank turned to Charlie who was about to throw him a look, 'Ma'm,' Blanchard nodded at her too, 'let's find us some whiskey and cigars, I think we have a lot of catching up to do.'

_One week later_

They had settled into Blanchard's camp. Blanchard had offered them the possibility to fight with the rangers. An offer both Miles and Bass had taken. An offer Connor had taken, to fight with his dad, not fight and struggle with his dad. Although they had far from found steadier and calmer ground, they were getting there. Bass feeling how his kid let him in every day a bit more.

Later they would have to face much more shit. But he would be there. There when anger came for Emma, as Connor finally let himself feel the bottled up anger for a decision his mom made out of love for him, but it still had meant him being send away. Bass would be there, to comfort him, to talk to him, to let him rage. But he would also be there to tell him how much he loved Emma, his mom. How they once were. What she had meant to him.

Connor found a rhythm with him, Miles and Charlie.

God, Charlie. He had seen some shit, been through more shit, but her. Here. It happened between them that day.

He walked through camp. Through the paths between the tents. Bass still felt the adrenaline, the rage, the taste of revenge and the vision of kaki's falling through their knees when the rangers shot them still pumping through his veins.

He watched her across camp, as she disappeared into another building. The message in her eyes was clear. It was exactly what he needed.  _Her._

Charlie knew. Miles had told her what was going down in the hangar where Blanchard, his general, a couple of rangers and Bass had walked into. She knew the gunshots meant the beginning of the end of what they had been fighting. She knew what it meant to Bass, she had watched the intensity in his eyes. She had seen it for the first time it that pool, when had not been able to hide how much he needed to know if she had been there that night in the Tower. The look in his eyes. But then, she had been unwilling to look at all of them.

Now she knew what it did to him, how it tore him apart, the self hate and loathing and dark guilt it all brought him, making the mistake of letting Randall into his life and office years ago in Philly. She knew.

She stood in the middle of an abandoned room of a structure at the edge of camp. It was darker in here, light falling in. Bare walls, some left over chairs and tables. But for the most part it was empty. Left alone, with only her heartbeat wild in her chest. And minutes later, with him walking in, anticipation and raw need filling the room too.

His eyes were focussed, his eyes a touch of wild crazy and contained rage. And then they fell on her, and everything else fell away. Monroe. Bass.

He stood in front of her, as they looked at the other, raging intensity between the both of them.

They both realised that the release of months on the road, of eyes that lingered too long, of sleeping close near a fire was more than just protection or seeking out warmth, the release of coming back for the other, of fighting side by side, was raging between them. He walked to her as he grabbed her into his arms, towards his chest and pushed her against the closest wall he could find.

His lips crashed on hers. She jerked his jacket more open, impatient hands going for his pants. He had time to chuckle on so much of her eagerness, but then she found his cock with warm slender fingers and he could just groan, a deep sound coming from his throat.

'Fuck, Charlie,' he cursed with all he had, raw words, fingers digging into her thighs.

It was a low primal growl in her ear.

He moved his mouth hungry to her jaw, and neck, as he helped her when she pushed his pants out of the way. His cock wide, as she gasped at the wide hard feel of him in her hands. It brought new satisfaction to watch and listen to her react to his dick.

His fingers went over her tank, raged under it, tore the button almost of her pants as he was claiming the wet warm spot between her legs. Fingers, touching, stroking. And then, his heavy thick cock between her legs, as he lined her up, as she was moved over his thighs and up in the air against the wall. Her feet not touching the ground anymore.

He was done waiting. Done with getting rock hard in his pants with just that look she would throw at him on the road. Done with the insane need for her. He would fuck her, take her here against this wall. He watched in her eyes that she wanted the same. One moan from her made him combust as he slid into her with one hot thrust. She angled her hips to feel all of him, to take him in even more.

He fucked her, as he realised what the fuck was happening. That she was here, over his thighs, balls deep inside of her, her moaning .

Charlie kissed him, and again, as they were so out of breath they needed to stop for a second. And then, she watched his blue needing eyes.

But they were also filled with something else. The almost natural expectation to be rejected, to be shut out, thrown out. Walls were cornering in his eyes that threatened to push them apart again.

She searched for Bass, deep in there, in those blue eyes that could turn from steal to blazing heat.

'On the same side, remember?' Her voice was hoarse with need. And strength. But her voice was also laced with something deeper that she had not dared to show him yet. She had saved it for now.

She felt him tense up, rigid muscles in his thighs and back. She felt the scaring under her fingertips, on his back, scars invisible inside of him.

'Same side Charlie,' he growled, deep, low warm. He pushed deeper inside of her, his hard cock now filling her so completely that she had to bite his shoulder, taste him, and let out a cry that was provoked from so much raw commitment he gave her there.

Commitment he gave her the moment they had come back, and he had come back in that school, and all those times they had not been able to walk away from the other when they really fucking should have.

Another moan, hers, a moan he made come out of her mouth, filled the air, as two bodies got lost in each other. And Bass Monroe got to take Charlie in his arms, as she was warm and tight around her as he cursed in her hair and she just pulled him closer by his shoulders. His flat stomach crashed into hers, hips against hips, the sounds of getting lost in each other so close to them, as sweat moved over their skin. Charlie's feet dangling in the air, her legs over his thighs, his hand grabbing her, unable to let her go. She felt how she would come soon, as Bass felt the urge to spill his cum all over her smooth warm belly.

And all there was, was them. There.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks for all the feedback, I adored reading all your great and kind reviews. Thank you for taking the time to send me those, because I love knowing how you experience the story. In this chapter, it was time to release everything I build towards in this story between Charlie and Bass. But there were also other developments, between Miles and Charlie in the background, and Connor and Bass. I love writing all their characters.
> 
> The next chapter will be published soon!
> 
> Love from Love


	9. Chapter 9

Time moved on. Time moved their summer into a war. A war Bass and Miles fought together in. A war where brothers were able to fight side by side. A war they won.

Davis escaping under suspicious circumstances, Truman out there, stories about people who were not there anymore roaming the Texan fields. Whispers about unnatural things. Somewhere in the middle of that simmer, Charlie could not look the other way anymore as it was one late summer night and she had walked to Rachel.

Telling her mom she needed and wanted to know all there was to tell. Tell her about everything Charlie only came to understand in bits and pieces, pieces they had touched in the Tower and days after that, all that her mother and Ben were involved in. She needed to know, through the shame and guilt of her mom.

It was a late summer night that moved into a deeper Texan night, when Rachel eventually started talking and Charlie started to listen. The project she and Ben had been working on, how it all went horribly wrong. What it had cost them. What it had cost the world.

Charlie knew Miles was around when her eyes were serious and on her mom. Her mom had even let Bass and Connor close to the spot they had chooen near a fire. As she not only told her daughter her story, Ben's story that filled her with so much shame. But Rachel also told Bass, and Miles, after long years, the whole story they had both kept her for in Philly for so long.

Aaron sat gently and quietly, the guilt he carried because of his part in this story, always there on his shoulders. He looked from Rachel to Charlie. Knowing he would never be prepared for when Charlie would hear the truth about Rachel and Ben. But that nothing had prepared him for a Charlie crumbling down with the weight of the truth right before him.

Realisation started to form, as Charlie realised what her parents part was in the history of their world. Another thing had started to work its way in, as she could not see Bass, but she felt him there, his broody darker eyes near the fire, the flames falling over his face, as he had been silent and listening to Rachel. He stood right behind Miles.

She had accused Bass of so much. Miles too. But Bass, he had been the black and white man in her past. Even in the present there was so much of her hate and anger of how this world was and how she had and still felt the limitations of this post black out world in it every single day. Of who she would not never be, of colleges she would never visit, of worls she would never see.

Bass had done unspeakable things, to the world, to her, to her family. But so had Miles.

So had her mom. So had Ben, the man she still could only think about as her father as well.

After what her mother told her, she realised black and white would not do. Not anymore.

That the story had started sooner. Bass had once lived his life, until his world, together with the rest of the world, had crashed down before his feet as he sat next to Miles in a car that broke down on a highway in the dark, a car they would never listen to rock music in anymore, talking about Miles' stubbroness to ever buy a different phone and Bass' receiving messages from woman on his own, with a wide grin and another right on his best friend, his brothers face.

That Bass, had turned into the man she knew now in that world her parents had created for him to discover all the darkness in in, in a world without limitations anymore. Just like the rest of them. He baceme hardened throug life, rough, crude. Man, general, brother. Lost in mad grieve and decisions in a world gone mad of its own.

It was the moment she realised it, as things clicked into a new reality. All of it. It was the moment it changed everything for good. It was the moment she could not sit with her mom anymore. As there were no more questions to ask, only raw emotions to be felt.

As hurt, and disbelieve and shock for what her parents did, for anger how different things could have been, and for all the things she had to adjust now, hit the surface.

She pushed herself up from the log she had been sitting on.

Rachel was crying, her hands going for her daughter, until she realised too, her daughter, her little girl would not want here there. She had left her behind that day with Ben and Danny on thar path in the forest. She made that descision, she had cried for hours. And now, the full realistion hit her, a mothers realisation moved into her heart, of what she had chosen, of where she had gone after she walked away crying for her husband, and little boy and Charlie. Philly. Miles. Charlie had changed, she had grown up. She had missed all these years and because of that, Charlie would not allow her close. SHe would not want her there. As now other men fulfulled thar role, were there for her.

Charlie stood, as she felt the men around her react to her. Still silently processing what Rachel just told all of them. But still on alert.

Miles was looking at her with so much pain for her, pain he wanted to spare her from. Aaron's eyes filled with tears behind his glasses. Connor looking at her with deep eyes, genlte eyes, that were there too behind him being all cocky and so full of himself at times, as he was standing next to Bass. Realising his dad had been right that day in the storm cellar, that they all had their sad stories, that all of them, went through their hell. That even how strong Charlie looked and acted, her pain, matched his own. And Bass, his eyes had been following her, burning into her like the brand on her wrist, not missing any single movement from her.

She had walked away as the realisation caught up and left her nowhere to go and with blinding tears in her eyes with the weight of so much.  _Her parents_. They had destroyed a time and world that once was.  _Her family. Hers alone._

She walked. And walked. She cried. Anger, betrayed tears with so much sadness of how the world really was, something her mom, and dad, both had hidden away from her. It brought everything in a new perspective. Every word her dad told her, every warning from Ben, telling her that out there, there was nothing to see. She walked. And cried. And had nowhere to go. But kept on walking.

And when Bass found her, because that is what he did that late night in that silent forest, he let her turn towards him the moment she knew he was there and he let her crash her fist with so much rage and hurt at him. Rage at what this world would never be, rage of how she could never see her parents again.

Rage, she never knew she could feel, anger that it was Monroe, that it was Bass. That out of all people that it was  _him_  who stood here, letting her rage, taking each and every one of her hits. After everything she had accused him, after all the cold looks, after all that. He was still here. Willing to look at her, willing to catch her pain.

Bass had followed her, after Miles had given him permission with his eyes, as he had watched Connor give him a nod, understanding what he had to do. He had kept his distance, checked their surroundings as he gave her a free path for her anger and grieve, but he had never let her out of his sight.

He had once signed the warrant for Ben himself. Miles standing behind him, whiskey glass in hand. His idea,  _Miles_ ' idea, because Miles had been the last one talking to Ben. And they knew, they knew they had not been able to watch the world go to hell anymore. Woman raped, men murdered for food on the road to Chicago when he had joined his brother to go after Ben and his family. So Miles and him, had decided to get Ben to Philly. Before the madness for more control and power had become his new goal.

He had wanted the truth to come out. Fuck, he had wanted it the night Charlie had sat on that couch in front of Rachel in Philly and next to that damn unfinished amplifier _. I'll bet there is a lot you don't know about your mom._ He had felt it then, the cruel need to use it against Rachel. But then Charlie had found his way under his skin. And what should have been the moment Charlie saw everything her mom did and and who she really was, and what should have brought him dark satisfaction turned into pain he felt for her.

So he followed her. He found her. He let her fight, he let Charlie cry. He watched the wild doubt in her eyes, the realisation that things were not how she thought they were. He felt the sting of her pain. So he held her.

And when Charlie's shoulders slowed down their movements of shock and sobbing, he moved a finger under her chin, moving her face towards him. Looking at everything he knew what was swirling inside of her her tearfilled eyes. 

She looked him straight in the eyes, as she tasted the salt taste of her tears at the back of her throat.

'None of this,' his voice was low and filled with empathy and a feeling that made Charlie return more to herself and the forest, 'is your fault. Do you hear me?' His voice was more rough now, to underline each and every of his words. 'None of this bullshit is your fault Charlie.'

Hell, he needed her to know, to understand, before guilt for something she did not do would consume her and eat her whole. Beause he knew her, she would go there. ANd dammit, he would not let her go there, he would not loose her to that. 

She did not even blink, with her mouth slightly open, as his words streamed in. She nodded, but maybe she did not. She watched him understanding her anyway.

Bass watched how she listened to him, how his words made a difference, how he mattered to her, how he was able to reach her _. Dammit_ , he felt fucking stupid tears ambush him. He swallowed them away as he stood there with her, her tears in her eyes and drying on her cheeks as he let Charlie lean against him. 

Two weeks later

She had made a choice. Charlie would fight with Miles. She would fight with him. After Bass had walked her back to camp, after Miles and Connor and Aaron had been waiting at their fire that night, in that camp, near Willoughby. She ahd given her mom one nod, silently letting her no that no matter how fucked up things were, they were still family. But that she needed time, and space, and room to be her, with the people she chose around her.

Not much later after that night she had walked to Blanchard, and offered her services. He had accepted them. Offering her a whiskey and asking her is she was damn sure she wanted to fight with those two idots plus junior. She had told him, that they were idots, but that they were  _her_  idots. She had finished her drink in one swig, but the glass in front of him and had asked Blanchard if he needed something more.

When Miles had asked about his meeting with Charlie later, when he had to talk some shit through with Blanchard, Frank had told him, and Bass the story. Making Bass and Miles grin like idots. Making Blanchard mummble something about how very right he was about calling them idots.

Miles had made a choice. A choice to let Charlie completely into his heart, after she had done the same for him. He had no idea if things were going to work out between him and Rachel. Bass had grunted something about him being a lovesick puppy. First, there was this war, with hell breaking loose, and his daughter at his side. With Bass fighting with them, with Connor there too. Brothers side by side again.

 _Their kids close_. He took another swig of his flask,sitting on a crate in between the tents of their camp, realising that was a thought he would never hear himself think. He almost grinned, as he met the light amused eyes of Bass, who raised an eyebrow at him, standing next to Charlie.

Bass already made a choice. He would fight next to her, just like he would always fight next to Miles. They were brothers and god, there was so much fucked up hurt and battles ahead, but there is where he wanted to be. He would fight, with her, with his kid, with Miles. To fight every and each of these kaki's into the ground, getting his revenge one kill at a time. Letting loose his rage on all of them.

He knew he loved her. Fuck, he was already fucked when it came to that. Deep love, respect. Just like with Miles. Just like the love he felt growing with every day Connor was with them. But so much more different.

They would move out tomorrow, follow the other where they went from this day one.

* * *

That night, and in many nights that summer that would follow, Charlie walked to the small fire that was burning slowly. She found Miles already snoring, asleep. Her mom, Gene and Aaron and Priscilla shared a tent further ahead.

She watched Connor in the distance with some girl, her shoulders close to his chest as they were busy flirting and talking. She had watched Connor earlier this night and it looked like he was getting lucky tonight. Good for him, Charlie grinned. Connor had been flirting with one the girls that had been roaming their camp. Connor had looked away from his new discovery to grin at her,  and Charlie had smirked back at him before he turned his attention back on the brunette in front of him, in the middle of his stories to impress the hell out of her. Charlie knew those stories and Connor was lucky he was that cute, because those stories, well, they never impressed her. 

That left one man, sitting near the fire. The one Monroe that was able to jank her chain, to rock something deep inside of her, every damn time. Bass' eyes distant and brooding. His boots in the ground in front of him, his jackets close to his wide chest. Charlie knew her was going through strategies for tomorrow and would follow. She found her bedroll already next to his. She smiled, but hid it from him. She knew either Miles or Bass had put it there, never  making it not clear who she belonged to and that other men from camp should leave her the hell alone. She kind of liked it, she thought it was kind of cute. But she never told them.

She sat down next to Bass, as he offered her a swig of his bottle. They listened to Miles snore.

'So, he is going for it.' Charlie said drily, as another wave of sound from Miles reached them, and probably half the camp, nodding at Miles.

'Oh yeah, luckily for me, you don't snore...' Bass took a swig of the booze, '...well, at least, not that loud.'

He watched Charlie getting pissed at him, her whole face starting to protest.

'What? I think it is adorable, Charlotte.' He said, eyes with a smile in them, that boyish one, that made her stomach swirl for many reason, as Charlie watched him and stumped him with her elbow right in his ribs.

He did not even move a muscle as her ellbow made contact with his chest, hardness waiting there for her to pump into, as he took another swig from the burning drink in their shared bottle.

When they exchanged the bottle, their fingers touched, in a casual familiarity. Bass looked at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. He watched Charlie drink, a Mini Miles sitting next to him. Long blonde messy curls falling around her face. He could not fucking help himself, restraint had never been his strongest side. He let his hand move into her hair, his fingers going over the soft skin on the back of her head.

He did not give a fuck who would see. He did pulher close, watched her grin and kissed her slowly and deeply. She breathed into his mouth as Charlie felt Bass' firm strong lips as he took her the way he wanted.

His lips were firm and subtle and so good. She softly moaned and of course the son of a bitch took pleasure in that. Every single time she gave away how much her body wanted him, he took it as a victory. She moved back, watching him grin his stupid grin, rolling his eyes. And then, the asshole winked. And she could not help but laugh with him.

Her bedroll looked inviting as Charlie moved in it quickly, pulling an extra blanket over her roll that Bass had managed to find somewhere. When she had managed to find her best mocking look, and to say how sweet that was of him to get that for her, in her Matheson mocking voice, he had just looked pissed, threw the blanket against her chest and stomped out.

Bass moved to his bedroll. Crouching down behind her as he shoved his bedroll closer to hers. Miles moved to her form, instinctively in his sleep. Another snore that made both Charlie and Bass roll their eyes. And then, smile. Smile at knowing each other and each others sounds through the night so well, a sound you only know because you are family.

A warm smile on her face that moved her eyes into gentle blue. Bass watched her. She pulled a warm smile out of him, fuck he swore she was good at that, that reached his eyes and made the lines around his eyes crinkle. 

Charlie moved and found a comfortable place. Her body close to his thigh, his chest, his shoulders, the scent of his leather jacket.

Tomorrow they would move out. Charlie watched his eyes changes and she knew exactly why Bass was smirking. Why his eyes moved with blue steal lust, that made her remind herself why she was still pulsating between her thighs.

Bass watched her, as he had watched her less than an hour ago, as he had been banging her against a tree, Charlie encouraging him to fuck her even harder, a challenge he had happily accepted. Always the gentleman he was. The memory made him grin, and his cock grew hard under her look. She knew, bcause hell, she was messing with his head the way she moved her body close when she lay cloose, too fucking close to his groin.

Bass had hit a spot deep inside of her that made her grin and moan all at the same time there against that tree in their stolen moment. Bass had smirked back as he had moved her higher up his thighs, as he had moved deeper inside of her and changed the pace as both of their grins had moved away and there was only the need for release on their faces and in their bodies as he banged her even harder against the tree, making her come over and over again with shocks through her body until he had pumped himself into release that hit the ground between her legs, her shocking still from coming in his arms, as he had to let out a fucking breath with her intensity and their fucking.

He watched her, here, laying close to him, between him and Miles, near their fire. Sated, because of him, and a little blushed from what  _he_  had done to her, showing in her eyes as a aftershock of how he took her there, against that tree.

He watched her eyes go heavy with sleep and he fucking loved how she still chose to sleep next to him.

'Ready for another round, Charlotte?' His voice was teasing, but his eyes were serious.

'Oh I am, Bass.'

She used his nickname but still found that sweet mocking Matheson tone. It made him snort briefly. Sure, let her be like this. Meanwhile both her,  _and his brother_ , were here, next to him.

They both knew what they were asking the other.

'Are you ready?' Her warmth reached him, as her voice was raspy with sleep. And something else, that moved straight to his damn insides.

His eyes were filled with blue fire, as he pulled her in for a kiss. Slow burning like the fire. Their faces were close as she moved closer to his shoulder, placing a slender hand on his chest, her fingers touching the leather around his shoulder, and he moved through her hair with his nose, gentling nuzzling her.

His voice was low and soft, meant for only her when he spoke.

'Hell yeah, Charlie.'

She smiled at him, lazily. He whispered more into her ear. He told her to go to sleep, that he was here, that Miles was here. His words slowly moved her into deep safe sleep.

He knew his kid would return soon, or maybe enjoy his night with that girl he had seen Connor flirt with like a true Monroe man he was. Bass knew he would be back. His place was with him. his kid silently accepting him, and the placee his kid was safe, the place he wanted to give Connor so fucking much. 

He watched how Charlie moved to his chest, how she looked at him before she fell asleep, gorgeous lips and curls around her face.

Choices.

Charlie had made a choice to practice until her tiny feet hurt from wearing her new ballerina shoes. Charlie had made a choice to not let go of Danny's hand in a small wagon in a city on fire. Charlie had made a choice to teach herself how to hunt with her new bow in a week. She made a choice to never let anyone tell her what she could do, or who she could be. Even in the face of a gun aimed at her.

She made a choice to walk to Chicago to find one man. She made a choice to bring back another man to Willoughby. She made a choice to not let her heart turn dark with the lack of forgiveness. She made a choice to never stop fighting for who she was, together with two men and the love she felt for them, as she was not able to catch their bond in any word. They just were.

Bass had made a choice to draw the letter M on his forearm, Miles sitting next to him against that tree, as brothers were brothers and they would never be something else. Bass had made a choice to follow Miles to Chicago, as all of his brother's bullshit was his.

Bass had made a choice to keep his faith, until he had watched Miles shot two men who had been raping and attacking their way through a post blackout world. He had decided to turn dark grieve and loss into rage. He had decided to fight alongside Miles. He had decided to stand, to fight, to keep any fucking grip on his Republic, their Republic,until Miles would find his way home after  Miles had left him.

He had decided to save her life in that bar. He had decided to fight with her. For her. He had decided he would find his son, and take any pain he could absorb for him. Bass had decided to fight with his kid, with Miles, with her. With people that were his family. The people that accepted him, that slept next to him in a long night around a fire here in fucking Texas.

Choices.

Life was full of them.

But what Charlie Matheson and Bass Monroe have in common, is that when they make a choice, they stand behind it. With all they have. 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, to show you where they all are now. I wanted to let Rachel tell her story to Charlie. To show her how she made choices too. I wanted to tell that part of the story so Charlie would understand the story did not begin with Monroe being the ultimate bad guy here, but with a moment Ben and Rachel turned this worlld into darkness. Thank you so very much for reading this one! It has been such a great story to write and I love hearing from you, so thank you for all your feedback! I wanted to conclude the story here, as this story has been all about choices. Choices from all the characters, through moments of time.
> 
> After the update for trouble earlier this week and the conclusion ( the epilogue for this one will be here soon) to this story it is now time for me to focus on a new story. A lighter story, with a lot of fun moments, which include Aaron, Miles, Charlie, Bass, Connor and Rachel in Willoughby, right after the war. It will include a Charlie in high heels, a Bass that is happy to offer his help, coffee, a Bachelor party for Aaron and much, much more.  
> Love from Love


	10. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

He had taken her, against the wooden frame of the doorway, her hands against the thick wood hat was painted soft white years ago and was then left to let the paint crumble down with the years.

He had taken her from behind, her warm wetness moving over his dick as he had pushed her harder into the wood she arched her slender smaller body against to keep on standing up straight. She had taken each and every jerks of his wide hard thighs, as he had made impact after impact inside of her.

Her hands had been grasping the wood of the doorway. He had softly sucked and bitten the skin of the spot right under her ear, telling her, telling Charlotte, it was him. Telling her it was him, taking care of her.

He had not allowed himself to take in her scent of warm salty sweat and the scent that was her. So much her. The pace he had set, the rhythm of wild thrusting left no room to think of any other things, left no time to do something else but to push deeper inside of her and loose himself in her.

Charlie had been still in her tank, her pants down over her thighs as he had not bothered with removing them from her long legs. He stood in his boots behind her.

She had matched him with demanding one of his large hands over her left breast, and then, she had just rode out his thrusting, both of them not lasting long as they both came hard and with deep moans and a curse and grunt from him.

After that they had not talked. He had stood breathless behind her, as he had felt his dick softening fast against her legs. He had not been able to look for her eyes. She had walked out, not much later, not slamming the door behind her, but he could feel how he left her miserable with his own grey fucking state of being miserable.

Bass cursed some more, as he felt familiar dark creeping in. As he watched faces right in front of him, fucking close enough to almost touch that still haunted him. The way he had let them down, unable to protect them, haunting him.

He moved through the living room on his way to grab the bottle from the kitchen counter. He was not drunk enough, hell, he was not even fucking close. Today, nothing would do as he grabbed the bottle.

It was early autumn on today, today his life was even more hell than usual. The room empty without her in it, but maybe that was for the best. He could not take kind of humanity reach him, unable to think how he would take just. Bass sat down on the small couch in his shitty apartment. He just wanted to drink and sit. With a tired face which had his pain written in every of the lines on his face and arms on his legs and over his knees, Bass he took the first burning swig of nothingness.

_Across town_

Charlie had been fuming. Fuming because Bass had been a son of bitch, well more than normal. He had been crude when summer had ended, and with a highly flammable temper and more broody as she had seen him in a long time.

They were a family of broken people, she knew that. But as she had left him behind in his apartment after he took her there and she had felt something hit the surface as she had reached her own release and she was walking across town to someone who would understand and have some decent booze, she felt it again. The sting of how he was moving away from her.

He had fucked her, and she had his weight against her back, him holding her but in a distant way.

No matter what happened since that summer they went to war now two years ago, she and Bass, they had found some common ground of trust. Of understanding. And fighting together. And friendship. And quick fucks that left her breathless. And long night where he found each and every part of her and her body with his tongue, and lips and strong fingers and hand that needed be touched in every way.

The past two years had given them more than enough room to fight, fight in the war, fight the kaki's, fight each other, work through a lot of shit. She, Miles, Bass and Connor. Never far from the other.

After her mom had told her the whole story of what she and Ben had started, as Charlie had seen the whole scope of the truth, things had been harder and easier at the same time. She was still battling with what her family did, how her place was in all of this. The storm was silently raging, but loosing force.

She still felt the old rage and hate sometimes flame for the part in him that was Monroe. But forgiveness had started to match that hate, bringing her back to a point where she had once been with both Miles and Bass. Living and fighting with them as men she could trust and love. Time had changed her, time had changed them. Their choices had too. But they found each other in trust and love again somehow.

Her relationship with her mom was a rocky one. She would visit her and Miles, in Willoughby where they had settled down after the summer of war. After a war that was done, but the stabilisation of half a continent was far from over. There were jobs to do, fights to fight, people needed to get back to their feet, a Nano to be silenced. And as she had fought with Connor, Miles and Bass, her mother, Aaron, Priscilla and Gene had done their own battle. The Nano had been defeated in Bradburry and after that, they had come back to Willoughby.

Although it was home for Rachel and Gene, for Charlie, Bass and Miles home would always be somewhere else. But their little family of broken people had decided to stay together, so they settled down in some kind of life. She and Bass got closer on the road. With every fight, with every time he almost got lost in powerhunger and dark again, it had been Connor, her and Miles who would bring him back. After she would fall back into a state of being numb and doubt like she had once been in Austin, he was there.

And in between, they had started to flirt, to fuck, to banter, to fight until he had told her to grab her shit one evening as he would buy her some food and she was mid food when she realised that the great tall badass Sebastian Monroe had been taking her on a date. And they had fun, he made her laugh, she made him even blush. They talked.

Life moved on. Rachel and Miles did a lot of fighting, and a lot of making up. The last part drove Charlie out of their place real fast and into a small apartment of her own. Not far from Aaron and Priscilla.

Connor had wanted to get his own place too. He had told his dad he was not going to bring the girls that were hanging around him the moment he rode into Willoughby like bees around honey, back to his old man's place. Miles had snorted, Charlie had smirked. Bass had looked pissed.

Charlie had took pity on him, and had straddled him that night in his bed, whispering in his ear how good he felt deep inside of her. It had made him curse, kiss her hard and move them both so he was under her and he could push deeper inside of her, telling her exactly how fucking old he  _not_  was.

She getting her own place, and Connor too, meant more time for bass and her in her bed, on his couch. The both of them taking advantage of every piece of furniture that was closest.

They had found some kind of rhythm, until the second autumn came they were not on the road anymore.

They all tried to find some kind of new normal. It worked. Charlie felt herself relax, knowing there was family and one man that was able to get under her skin, in all the good ways and all the very bad ways.

That was until October almost arrived and Bass had started to drink more. He had started to distance himself, to start fights with her as he was flirting his ass off with other woman in the bar. He never went home with them, Charlie knew that. But it was like he needed her to fight him. She and him, Charlie knew they were friends, fighting together, caring for the other although neither of them ever said it out loud. They were not together and free. But they both knew, there was less and less room to not think about themselves as together.

This afternoon, he had gone from distant to needing her in less than five minutes when, an overwhelming need he translated into strong hands turning her around, opening the button of her pants as he moved the fabric of her pants over her thighs as he had opened his zipper before pushing her against the wall and entering her. After that, he had not even looked at her.

Charlie was reaching her limit.

She walked through Willoughby, turning another corner before she stopped before a front door. She knocked, not wanting to interrupt anything between her mom and Miles.

When Miles opened the door, he looked into the face of a fuming Charlie. He knew that look on her face. Charlie looked at Miles as he let her in. She was about to open her mouth to start to rant about Bass until a look in Miles' eyes told her he was expecting her. Until sadness reached his dark brown eyes where there should have been a pissed of Miles asking her what Bass had done and if he should start killing the moron now or that it could wait until tomorrow.

Miles watched his kid, as he had seen the change in Bass, filling him with dread the moment the weather had changed, the air had gotten cooler. This date, this day, had been going through his mind all day.

 _October fifth_.

He knew she would come. He just knew. He looked at her. As he felt the impact of Bass' heavy weight and his whole face crumbled with loss was against his chest and arm again, as he stood there, a bucket of water and a towel over his damn shoulder that day, that one day that changed his best friend for good in that camp.

He looked at Charlie.

'There is something I need to tell you kid.'

* * *

Bass heard footsteps. He had almost finished the bottle but since he was still sitting here and making coherent thoughts about the bottle that was too empty and he was still seeing them, he knew he needed a hell of a lot more.

Charlie found him on his way to be very fucking drunk in his living room. She closed the door behind her. His eyes on a spot near the floor, the bottle in his hands, sitting on his couch and looking like hell.

Miles had talked when he had let her in, he had told her that today, would be hell for Bass. He had also told her it was not his story to tell. It had made her rush back to Bass' place as Miles watched her with pain and sadness in his own eyes. Giving her space, his eyes already going to find his weapons and jacket, as he knew he would follow her soon. As there was one place he needed to be today. But Charlie, she could do so much more than he felt he could. She did not even know herself, but he knew, Charlie would be there for his little brother.

Charlie locked the rest of the world away by locking his front door, as she walked to Bass and she sat down next to him. He did not talk, neither did she.

Bass knew where Charlie had gone to, and he also knew his brother. He would have his back, but he also would not have told her the story. That was up to him. He cursed inside, swirling in pain and whiskey that was burning through him.

'She...' he let out a tired breath that sounded like someone hit him in the chest, a sigh of breath with so much pain that it brought cold sadness into Charlie's chest, ' I was married before Charlie.'

Her eyes were intensely on him bright deep blue eyes with so much different kind of blue that it was one look with so much for him in there.

He still was not able to look at her completely, as his eyes locked away from the floor and his eyes went to her face quickly. Then he looked in front of him, his face years older in this light, the bottle still in his hands.

She did not talk. She just sat with him.

'I met her in a camp Miles and I had set up to provide a place for people who needed it and making sure there was food and water and the basics. Her name was Shelly. We got married soon, and she got pregnant. Everything...everything went well. I was talking to her, about Miles. About baby names. Felt the baby kick as I felt our child inside of her... fifteen years ago... I lost them both Charlie.'

Images of what it must have been like bombarded her mind, images of goodbye, and final tears and hugs and love, as tears blurred her eyes. She slowly moved her hand to his, and took the bottle from his fingers. She replaced the bottle with her love, and her warm hands.

Bass broke, pulled a hand over his face and started to sob in long cries. His voice was edged with low grieve as he spoke.

'She died giving birth to our daughter...to my little girl and there was nothing I could do, I should have...I...'

He felt the small weight of his baby girl in his arms again. He could feel and take in the scent of the tent, of feeling his brother close as he had just wanted to held his daughter, his child, his beautiful perfect little girl.

He was talking slowly, pain slowing him down as Charlie heard the blame he put on himself

Bass felt the tears hitting the scar tissue on his arm, the one where the tattoo he got in honour of his family had once been. Wishing she was not fucking here to see him cry.

'I held them both...I...'

Charlie just held his hand and let him cry, the almost finished bottle between them on the wooden floor.

'Bass, it was not your fault.'

'I got her pregnant Charlie.' There was a dark spike of anger and hate for himself in his voice as he almost spit out the words.

'You fell in love and she carried your child. There is nothing in there, that is your fault Bass.'

Bass finally looked at her, as he looked at a Charlie in tears, still sitting next to him after what he had told her.

'There was a baby girl?' Connor's voice, tears in his brown eyes and voice moved through the room. He stood in the doorway. There was shock in his eyes, as tears filled them quickly.

Charlie gave Bass room to get up, as Bass stood up. He walked to Connor.

'Yeah there was Connor. You had a baby sister , kid.' He stood before his son, not sure what to do, almost awkwardly.

When he watched his kid cry as Connor's tears hit his cheeks, there was only one more thing to do. Bass took another step as he pulled his arms around his son. As he held his other child. Connor grabbed his dad's shoulder and both men cried. Bass held Connor's cheek in the palm of his hand.

Charlie moved to both of the men. She moved closer to Connor and embraced him, as she felt Connor's warm chest, wild heartbeat and how her tears soaked his shirt, as Connors tears fell on her hair.

She held onto him, as Connor gently moved his arms around her, one of his hand between her shoulder blades as he took Charlie's comfort. Charlie felt Bass' hand on her hair as he stood by the both of them and brushed her long locks slowly as she held Connor.

They made a fire, the drank. Bass told Connor about Shelly, as both men sat side by side, Charlie listening as she was sitting in front of the fire in front of his couch. She was sitting in between Bass' legs, leaning against his knee. Bass told her about the camp Miles and him had been coordinating. About how they tried to make an effort to bring back some kind of humanity in this new world. A world her parents had created, it rang through her heart.

Bass told them about the little girl that was his daughter, about how he held her, about how Miles had been there. About the autumn day, that one fifth October that had been a black mark in his life.

Connor asked questions, Charlie listened to what Bass wanted to share.

And not much later that night, when a bottle was passed around, Miles walked in. Bass looked up at his brother. Some dates, some days were  _theirs_ , in their shared past, as landmarks in their land of pain and loss and brotherhood that always pulled them through. Their shared pain understood only completely by them.

Bass gave Miles the bottle as he joined them near the fire as they would not sleep for hours, share a night, share a bottle and share memories. Connor next to Bass, Miles sitting next to Bass, as Charlie felt the warmth of sitting close to Bass and Miles. Miles knee close behind her on her left side, Bass' fingers brushing and caressing the skin of her neck.

Sometimes they were all looks, but now, and many other nights, they were connected through more, with a night, a bottle, and his hand close to her neck, brushing her skin, connecting with her, his way of letting her in. Her understanding how much he could give right now, accepting that.

Miles had eventually fell asleep in a chair, Connor on the couch. Charlie had slowly walked to his bedroom without even asking. Bass watched her in the soft light of the night.

She turned around, and her eyes were filled with strength and love. Love for what she saw before her. Miles. Her home. Connor, family. Bass who grabbed a blanket and moved it over Connor and then, as an almost too intimate moment for her to watch, pressed a kiss on Connor's forehead.

It was an amount of love in front of her, of people she loved, that ached.

Bass followed her to the bed. Sunrise was coming, as the world was still in a dark night and stars were visible through the window of his bedroom. Neither of them wanted to undress. So Charlie let Bass pull her onto the bed.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck, as he held her.

'Don't leave.' Bass voice was rough and broken with tears and what he had told her, and Connor. His voice was strong with the amount of family he had found tonight in his living room.

'Don't you ever leave baby.' Bass said again.

Charlie was quiet, and Bass knew her, he felt her think. Charlie was not the one to bullshit around things. When she made a choice, she would make it with her whole heart. Bass waited, his heart roughly open and on the line.

Charlie knew what she wanted to say, knew what she felt. Knew that after tonight, she would not be anywhere else, there would be no other men to fill her bed or heart.

Only he would do.

'I will stay. Bass. I will always stay.' She felt the sob in her own throat that took her by surprise but that was there nevertheless, as she heard it in Bass'. He moved her only closer, his arms and hands everywhere.

The next day, Charlie would go back one more time to her old place to grab her things. She would move in with Bass as Miles would comment how this all felt awfully normal and Connor helped her move her things.

The next month, Bass would marry her, making her his, as he proposed to her over a bottle of whiskey. She said yes, he made love to her right there as she surrendered to his love and her heart that was able to tell Bass I love you, as he would whisper it back hoarsely in her ear. As he was still Bass Monroe, and she was Charlie Matheson and they both could be them with the other.

The next month on a cool early winter morning, with a golden bright sun streaming through the sky, they would get married, with Aaron and Priscilla close, and both Connor and Miles would be Bass' best man. Gene would be there, friends would be there. Even her mom would make a choice and an effort to stop by, wishing them the best. She was there only shortly, but the effort meant a lot to Charlie.

Blanchard would do the honours of marrying them. Asking Charlie once more if she was sure. She had said something un lady like back that made Blanchard blush and made Connor, Miles and Bass grin.

The next year after their marriage, Charlie would find life in her belly. It would be overwhelming and it would bring tears in her eyes and it would fill her with happiness so strong, she would never understand it, that it could be there until that very moment she felt her baby girl in her belly.

And Connor would get to hold his baby sister, named after Bass' mother, as Miles got to be an uncle all over again. And Bass, he would just cried silently, holding Charlie and little Gail close to his heart and in his arms, silently vowing that no one would ever stand between him and his family. Ever.

The stars were quietly in the night sky, as Bass felt tears press in his eyes as he moved her into his arms, needing her closer and safe where he could feel her. Charlie felt Bass firm arms as they created a warm safe nook for her to find her home. He still smelled like whiskey and fight and sweat and she would have him like this always.

She thought about Connor in the other room, about the kid Bass had to do without for so long. Here.

About Miles, his brother he had to miss for so long. Here.

She kissed his neck, almost asleep as he turned her towards his mouth and kissed her on her lips, guiding her to his mouth and then she felt Bass place another kiss on her temple.

Bass held onto her, the night quiet, his brother and kid sleeping in the other room, the sounds of the slow small fire filling his house. Charlie in his arms. Fuck, she felt warm and from the moment she had stood there before him in Philly, he had known this girl would fight for her family. He held her, his love for her, and the love for him he felt within her.

Alongside with her forgiveness and care and hot as hell ability to stand on her own in any fight and her infuriating as hell stubbornness, all of her in his arms as he guarded them through the night.

He remembered her, there in Philly. She knew how to love, how to fight, how to forgive, how to protect in this hardened black out world that could have changed her so fucking much into so much worse. Not her, not Charlie. And fuck, there was nothing he would not do for her, to keep her there, safe, with him, with Miles.

He remembered her, there in Philly. He had only no idea, right then and there, how far they would come. As Charlie had chosen him as family now too.

'Goodnight Bass,' she mumbled in her sleep.

'Night babe.' He mumbled back, his voice low and edged with a hint of smugness and love at the same time.

He watched how Charlie smirked at him calling her babe. Hell, she would hate it when he would do that somewhere in public. He made a note in his mind to yank her chain soon in public, by doing just that. She would be pissed. But hell, she would love it too. That was always the thing with the Mathesons.

And if he was lucky, there would be one hell of a round of making up fucking to get to after that with her. With Charlotte. He grinned. A small fast one, before pain was met with a promise of a future, right before he fell asleep next to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, for your feedback and kind words. I wanted to bring them together, in another way, even deeper and stronger in this epilogue. Bass told Connor and Charlie the story of something that changed him for good. I really wanted to write that here in this story. I hope you liked this conclusion that leaves them in a hard blackout world, but with each other. Not perfect, but family. Love from Love


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